Otter Creek sleep, soldier

By the time the storm broke he was numb to the world. He had not slept, unable to relax for a long enough period of time to let his body slip off to sleep, but at least the wound on his back had become numb too. The shared warmth of their shelter was sorely missed as soon as they were ambulatory; it had not been an aspect of the night that Drusk had fully appreciated until after the fact, as the pair tread through the remainder of forest and began the mission of seeking water.

When it was found, Drusk was slow to venture close. His nostrils were flaring every few minutes as the wind shifted, carrying with it the metallic storm-scent, while he checked for signs of others. Gavrel had more bravery than he; the man went for the shallows and stood there in the water while Drusk kept watch. After a handful of minutes to discern if it was truly safe, he followed.

Although he only stood on the bank, there was an ambient chill from the water that the rogue found familiar and in a strange way, comforting. He bent to drink, lapping at the surface while his ears remained on a swivel for signs of danger.