Hushed Willows it’s a most unusual day

During his long vigil, he had snatched a few hours of sleep here and there. He had toileted on the spot as needed, though that urge had all but ceased as his guts emptied. Cambria had otherwise ignored the demands of his body.

Now driven by thirst like he’d never known before, Cambria rushed to the nearby ravine and plunged himself right into its waters. He drank so much so fast, he vomited. He lingered in the current until his stomach demanded to be filled properly.

He climbed out of the ravine and ranged toward a willow grove growing at the foot of the mountains. Cambria stalked among the trees, gnawing patches of moss off the northern face of every trunk he passed. He stopped only when he lucked across a dead bird. He inhaled it.

After that, he folded down beneath the dangling curtains of a willow, sated and exhausted. He put his head on his paws and closed his eyes, falling so deeply asleep he didn’t stir when Wyvern landed on a bough overhead and let out a single trill.

He didn’t rouse until the next morning. Cambria blinked sleep from his eyes and peered upward, where Wyvern slept with her head tucked beneath a wing. He wanted to smile, though the memories of the last few days prevented it.

He wasn’t sure he would ever smile again, after that.