When Penelope mumbled that she couldn’t stay up much longer, Crow felt a bit relieved. Knowing that she wasn’t expecting him to stay awake to converse with her or anything, he felt much better about giving in to his desire to fall asleep. He yawned again and closed his eyes, his grip on her slackening slightly as his willpower began to fade.

“Night,” he managed to murmur in return to her before he slipped out of consciousness.

--

Although Crow slept soundly, his mind was quite active during the night, filling his slumber with a number of fleeting dreams about his fast-approaching life in the inner kingdom. Some of the dreams that passed through his head were great and exciting—imaginings of marrying Penelope and of finally achieving the life they’d always wanted—but others were disheartening, such as one in which he wound up narrowly escaping a mercenary hired by the nobles who wanted him dead.

So, by the time he woke up the following morning, the thief felt rather dazed and not quite as well-rested as he’d wanted to be. He shifted lethargically as he felt Penelope bury her head against his chest, hoping that she would drift off again so that he could get a little more restful sleep before they got up for the day. Unfortunately, it seemed he wouldn’t be so lucky, because it wasn’t long before he felt her stir again and move away from his arms.

“Not yet,” he groaned when she greeted him, rolling onto his side and pulling the blanket over his head. Though he could tell that it was about mid-morning by the light coming in through the window, he didn’t want to get up yet. After all, it wasn’t [i]that[/i] far of a walk to the castle from Sarton, right? He could sleep in a little longer if they just ate lunch without stopping or hitched a ride with a traveling merchant or something. Either way, he didn’t want to leave the warmth of the bed until he absolutely had to.