Ysaryn had slept like a corpse, tucked deep beneath the blankets and curled on her side like an animal in a burrow. A blissful, dreamless sleep that made her feel rested in the morning when she felt the temperature change with the dawn. Still, she groaned and did little more than wiggle beneath the blankets, unwilling to rise. 
Until she heard the knock on her door. 

Tossing the blanket back, she hissed at the sudden chill that met her skin before she scrambled out of the bed and rushed to the door. She met Ed with a pillow-imprinted face, blurry eyes, and wrinkled sleeping clothes. Not a dress, as Kire had found, but a set of trousers and a preciously warm long sleeved thing. While she hadn't been down to the springs, she'd cleaned herself, her skin absent of any of the odor and from from yesterday. 
It took Ysaryn a moment of puzzled, half-asleep staring before she inhaled sharply. "Snow?" She asked at once, turning inside to grab her boots to shove her feet inside them. "We will go?" She asked, her feet thudding across the wooden floor as she rushed back and moved into the hallway with him, starting along the corridor. "[i]I slept so well in the bed here. It would be terrible to live here. I would sleep all day![/i]" She laughed merrily, rubbing the sleep from her face. 

~

Ruli's eyes snapped open at the sound of voices in the hall. He was sprawled on his back, one arm tucked beneath the pillow, the other across his bare chest. As he listened to the voices fade, he wondered, only for a moment, why he'd removed his shirt when he remembered. 
Everything. 
In every satisfying detail. 

Not daring to move just yet, he stared at the ceiling, mind surfing through the memories. The sound of her voice, the warmth of her skin, the dig of her fingers into his flesh. The apprehension, too. He recalled the look she'd made when she lay unclothed beside him, her scars on display. Vicious scars, too, that had no doubt been near-deadly in receiving. 
He was sure his own face had been the same, the hesitation in knowing his own were on display. The crosshatch of raised lines across his front and back from his years beneath the whip, the hundreds of pale lines across his dark flesh from injuries sustained in fights or torture, the burn scar that tore across his left collar. 
He hadn't cared about her. She hadn't cared about his. The night had still been...

Slowly, Ruli turned his head to peer at her. She'd slept with her back to him, the three lines of vicious scars tracing along her back and disappearing into the blankets that covered her. She breathed slow and even, her body limp and relaxed in the soft bed. Still sound asleep. 
Carefully, Ruli turned to sit up, setting his feet down on the floor. The chilly air crept over his bare legs and torso. He bent to gather the discarded clothing and tugged them on quickly for warmth, rising to his feet once he was dressed.

It was then that he heard her speak, and Ruli froze, turning to glance at her from where he stood. Hair a mess, as usual, feet bare, but the rest of him clothed. He'd been about to grab his boots, to slip out of the room and find the others, and now felt guilty about the intention of wanting to sneak out. That word she muttered shocked him with hesitation. 
"Morning." Ruli greeted awkwardly.