Blackfeather Woods Sell your soul, not your whole self

As always, she was right. Taikon looked down and made a strained face, annoyed with himself for letting his weakness show. Normally, such observations would not have bothered him and he might even have thanked her for checking in. As it was, it all felt like a check in to see if he was even fit to do what he needed to — he wasn't really and he hated it. I am tired, he admitted simply, glancing toward her while continuing to walk on. She went on. He'd lost weight. I know, he thought. For a moment, he felt himself bubble in a weird form of anger, caused by a random thought that she didn't appreciate him.
It dissipated quickly with her worry. He licked his lips, frowned, and looked at her. I will, it'll be okay, he said. He didn't look great, but perhaps she had forgotten the way he had looked when they'd first met, when he had been travelling on his own for years.
The reality was that he hadn't seen the way he looked now. He was noticeably thin. She knew it. He denied it.
You're right, though. I'll take a step back the next few days before I leave, he said, meaning it. Taikon knew that the journey across the mountains would be difficult. He knew he'd have to hunt along the way, and that any misstep could spell disaster. He knew her worry. He thought of her in his place.