Stone Circle but why do I lie awake each night thinking

She’s passing by when she sees a dark figure, cut against the even deeper shadow that forms at the mouth of the healer’s den. Her first inclination, as always, is to turn back, make herself scarce, to leave the wounded boy to his healing business.

But it’s a pining curiosity, and suddenly she has to know the color of his gaze. For all the days he’s been among them, and every peek she’s stolen through the gathering night of his cave, she has never seen him with opened eyes.

So she slinks forward a bit oddly, innocuously lowered body, measured steps, silver stare awaiting hints of discomfort- any sort of thing that would caution her approach.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” she blinks before one side of her mouth lifts in soft playfulness.