Duskfire Glacier is there anybody out there

"I would be very grateful if you stayed."

Bazi nodded. "Just for a little while," she added, as if reading Njal's mind, but her reasons for attaching a disclaimer had nothing to do with his admirably masked gut reaction to her offer. Bazi wanted to go home. She ached for home - even though the Duskfire landscape suited her better, and even though she did not know what kind of welcome (if any) awaited her at Swiftcurrent Creek. Uncertainty would cause her to leap between desperate yearning and fear over the next week.

Silence eased into the space between them. It felt awkward - not because they had fallen out or grown apart, necessarily; Njal had never been chatty - but because she could neither imagine nor ease the hurt that dwelt in him. "I will fish," she fumbled, glancing over the mountain's shoulder. "There's plenty, and Lecter told me once that white meat is better for healing." Between the lines, she was telling him that she would not become a burden to his pack. Bazi would be strong enough to go home before she was able to repay any offers of food in kind, and the thought of leaving after clearing out another pack's winter caches made her feel a little ill with pre-preemptive guilt. "Where's Maera now? I'll go find her."