Aimee stuck her nose into her book, keeping herself angled towards Elann and Noah so they knew she wasn’t totally against speaking to them. If needed, she’d heed any beck or call her way. As it were, the couple was drawing close to one another and she was drawing close to the story in her lap.

Across the wagon, Noah’s request for water was answered by Elann. He declined the tea, diluted or not, just wanting the water to quench his thirst and aid in alleviating his headache and mild congestion. He figured his own body was tired from healing, though he hadn’t been engaging in anything particularly exhaustive until the trek to the river and bathing in the cool water thanks to Elann. He was grateful to be clean regardless, hoping whatever he was developing would pass by with sleep and water.

Elann came back to him with the water and he drank it slowly as the both of them watched the pattering rain drop down on the edge of the wagon. Noah felt a little bad for the horses since they had to trudge through it all at the behest of the humans. He figured if they were wild they would seek refuge, if they were anything like him or Elann, they didn’t like being wet if it wasn’t their choice. Thankfully for him, Elann didn’t feel like talking, and he was content with that, watching and listening as the wagons rolled, the horseshoes’ plodded, and the rain pattered.

Noah patted Elann and gazed out the back with renewed anticipation and fluttering excitement. Following him grabbing her attention thunder ripped through the sky and shook the clouds, causing the rain to pour heavier still for a few moments before lightening up again. He showed her a small smile, bending down to set the cup on the floor of the wagon before lying down on the bench, using her lap as a pillow for his head, his arms wrapping around her midsection while he nearly buried his face into the front fabric of her dress.

By the time evening fell and it was approaching time for the wagons to pull over for the night, the rain had ceased and Noah was well into his slumber. On the opposite bench, Aimee lay down on her back, her book held over her head before she let out a soft grunt of frustration, folding the corner of the page before closing it altogether then resting it over her bosom.

“I wish I had his eyesight,” she said, looking at Noah. “Maybe I could read in the dark, low light at least.” She sat up, arching her back to relieve built up tension. “Don’t get me wrong, I love being able to smell and hear like I can, but it would be amazing to see like he can. Don’t you think so?”