The Dreaming: Chapter 2

Nettle was aware only of that she was very warm. The cold that had once been plaguing her, freezing the very blood in her veins, was gone. Her mind travelled back over her progress: getting kicked off the merchant ship she had hitched a ride on in the Vilhallan capitol, Xin; staying at the 'inn' for a few days and stewing on the inustice of life, and then finally setting out on her merry way, figuring that it would be faster to just walk her way out of Vilhall than waiting for another merchant craft to become brave enough to venture into the Frost Sea. She could remember very little after that, the days blurring into monotonus series of sleeping and waking and walking and eating. And then she'd had the dream; that dark mysterious force that pursued her into the realms of sleep, unrelenting in its fury, never allowing her a moments peace. If not for that she would have fared much better in the tundra than she had, but it simply would not leave her alone. It teased and worried at her while she was awake, crouching in the dark corners of her mind and reminding her of its prescense and then leaping out when she laid her head down to rest and feasting on the fear that it aroused from her nightmares.

Eventually, she had simply stopped sleeping, not wanting to be subject to such terror any longer. She forced herself to stay awake, to not succumb to the tiredness that was entrenching itself into her very core. She couldn't even let herself sit down, for fear that her sitting position would somehow lull her into slumber; and so she stumbled through ankle deep snow, burning eyes scanning the empty landscape tiredly for predators. She didn't think in that state she would have even seen them if they were standing right in front of her. She had stumbled constantly, but always managed to force herself up again, until finally she had taken another stumbling lurch and promptly fell face first into the snow. She hadn't been able to get up again after that, it was as if the snow had leeched the last pitiful remnants of her energy. Even as she fought the darkness that was creeping on the edge of her vision the snow had been very inviting, a comfortable surface upon which she could rest her weary head. Merciful shadows clouded her mind.

She jerked awake, wincing at the painful tingling in her extremities as feeling returned. Keeping her eyes closed she tried to focus her senses to get a feeling of where exactly she was. There was coarse fabric against her back and underneath that was rough, natural stone- a cave? There was also a heavy warm blanket draped over her, pulled up to her chin. To her right she could feel a wall of heat, and the crackling and popping told her that it was a large fire. She wondered who it was who had found her and dragged her to wherever she was, and if they could be trusted.

"Just open your eyes. I know you're awake." A voice spoke from somewhere close on her left.

Nettle guessed that there was no point in hiding it anymore. She would just have to hope that the person wasn't going to try and kill her after this. She opened bleary eyes and turned her head slowly to the source of the voice. It was a man, a native from the looks of it; he had the dark hair, fair skin and dark grey eyes that she'd seen on most Vilhallans.

"Where...?" She croaked, her throat raw and scratchy and feeling as if it were caked with dust.

"My cave. We found you unconcious in the snow a few hours ago." The man said, moving closer to her and placing a hand on her forehead.

"At least your fever's gone down." He murmured, picking up a shallow bowl filled with water and holding it to Nettle's lips. The girl drank greedily, water slopping over the sides before the man checked her. "Careful, you'll make yourself sick."

Nettle knew this to be true, but she'd never been so thirsty in her life. She worried absently about the 'we' the man was speaking of, wondering just how many others there were with him. She'd found during her travels through Vilhall that people almost never travelled by themselves because the country was far too dangerous, even in better weather than this. She sat up, wincing at the crick in her back and neck, surveying her surroundings. She was indeed in a cave, a rather large and spacious one at that, though the door at the far end was quite small in comparison. Near the roaring fire to her right she could see her coat and snowpants handing from a makeshift coat rack of some sort, obviously put there to dry off. Her haversack also lay on her right, as well as all of her knives, even the two smaller daggers that she kept concealed under her tunic. Nettle flushed and felt a faint stirring of embarrassed anger that the man had taken them from her. He must have noticed her discomfort.

"Sorry. I just didn't want you waking up while I was sleeping and trying to stab me or something."

  Nettle almost laughed at this. "Fair enough." she said, her voice hoarse despite the water.

They sat in awkward silence for a long moment while Nettle continued to look over the cave, noting a similar pallet to the one she was laying on farther back in the cave, as well as a pile of blankets at the very back and a row of weapons against one wall. It looked like a permanent dwelling and she wondered why anyone, even a native Vilhallan would want to live all the way out in this godsforsaken tundra- and in a cave no less! She couldn't imagive living out here full time, she could hardly stand travelling through this place, much less live here. She much preferred the warmer climate in her native Eren. Thinking about her home brought a wave of nostalgia, coupled with a tiredness she hadn't allowed herself to feel for quite some time and lay back against the blankets on the floor.

"Thanks, um, for saving me. Name's Bandin. Nettle Bandin." She could already feel herself drifting off as she said it.

"Chard." the man said. "Chard Falster."

It was the last thing Nettle heard before sleep claimed her once again.

~~~~~

Chard watched the girl sleep for a moment before turning his back on her. He'd felt a little strange watching over her while she slept, as well as taking care of her. He could gut animals without feeling squeamish, but when it came to looking after an unconcious girl and making sure she didn't become sick, his stomach decided to tie itself in knots. He blamed it on the fact that he simply didn't have much experience concerning women. Living on your own for the better part of your life and rarely venturing back to civilization didn't help either. He knew when he did go into a village he was mostly avoided by people because of Windscream. But he couldn't help it, and he refused to leave his wolf outside of the village boundaries simply because people could not accept his Bastailia.

"Is she asleep, brother? May I come in?"

The wolf strode in without waiting for his human's answer, settling down on his haunches beside the man. Chard lifted his hand to scratch behind the wolf's ears-an apology for making him wait outside until the girl woke up.

"I think she will sleep for a long time, she was almost dead when I found her."

Chard nodded at the wolf's observation. Indeed, Nettle appeared as if she hadn't slept or eaten in days. Her skin had a sickly pallor and her eyes were glassy and unfocused. He considered it lucky that Windscream had found her when he had, else she might really have died; and finding her body buried in the snow when the storm blew over would have been rather unpleasant.

"You're probably right. Let's leave her for now and wait until she's rested. She looks like she could really use it."

Windscream made a sound of agreement, promptly settling down and placing his head on his paws before closing his eyes. Within moments the wolf was sound asleep. Chard laughed at his wolf's ability to fall asleep almost at will; he had always envied it. With that thought he got up and walked over over to his own pallet, settling down and pulling the blanket up to his chin, curling up beneath it. He gave Nettle one last look before turning on his side away from her and closed his eyes, soon joining his wolf and the girl in the land of dreams.