The Tangle The night was heavy and the air was alive

For a girl capable of producing such clear-sounding notes, her voice is slow to come.  His eyes narrow as he studies her, face flattening into something scrutinizing and perhaps intimidating to someone who didn't know him well.  It doesn't seem to deter her, however; she flattens herself against him, and he has to fight the urge to step back and away.  

He wonders if this is what nomi felt when she came home.  She's so small, and that's how heda makes him feel.  Do you talk? he says, less demanding with this question than he was the last.  I can help you.  He doesn't know how, but he's got to try.  Right?