The Wall you should have forgotten my name the day you heard it

A new degree of warmth radiated from where her head was placed, the touch stilling him to his very core; he could recall none being as near to him as the woman was, not even those he dared to consider family. Uncertainty stiffened his muscles, gaze downcast and seeking to settle on her frame; there was little to be seen from her current position, tucked against him so close. Gradually, he relaxed—although but a stranger, he could not tear himself away after her exposure to such a frightful event.

She spoke—a question of her own, quieted by the breeze. And Aningan answered: “No.”

A lie, however small, was a lie all the same; he could not in good conscious request that of her, especially not when doing so might lead them down another path of unwritten chaos. “Rest, then,” he offered, relief flooding over into a sigh that tumbled out with her own. A stranger, true to the word in every form, yet he remained; body looming over, providing a barrier between the wintry winds and her own.