Noah sat on the edge until the sun started peaking about the horizon and lighting up the sky. He watched the sunrise with half a mind, not minding the chill over his exposed skin as his body fought to keep him warm for the most part. He didn’t pay Elann any mind, not knowing she was near him until she spoke. He brought his attention to her then, bringing a hand up to wave to her in reply, a simple gesture in greeting. He scooted over to the edge of the wagon and leaned against it, resting his head on the frame, so she could get into the open part of the wagon without him being in the way.

Inside, Aimee was flitting between moments of consciousness and not. Elann came in during one such moment and Aimee did the same wave as Noah in hello, though it was much lazier and less focused, her hand coming down with weight over her bust as she slid away again.

Noah looked off into the road and away from the tent village until he heard Elann drop down from the wagon and onto the ground. He looked at her then, taking notice of the change in her hair. His face was placid but his eyes spoke of apparent interest. The strands were no longer brown like the hull of the ships he had seen in Zeltiva’s docks. They were reddishly tinged and dark at that.

Like Elann, he could smell the food being cooked but his appetite wasn’t brought on the cooking smell of flesh. Nothing to him was fresher than a kill, so he didn’t share her sentiment.

“I’m not hungry,” he said, not taking his eyes off of her tresses. “You colored your hair.”