Time passed, and only the sound of the crackling fire together with the beasts' howls and purrs kept Lidien awake, staring blankly at the sky full of stars.
Alva was asleep. Lidien let her sleep and took the night watch himself... though sometimes he kept glancing at her curled body lying on the small blanket made of leaves.
He smiled at the thought of being alone with a girl in the wilderness... a fox-girl at that, a fantasy of some young men in his old world.
Without much to do, he partially transformed the nail on his thumb and wounded his own finger, letting the blood drip slowly, splattering onto the dried leaf beneath him.
As his elusive thoughts returned to him, he willed the blood to suspend in front of him, forming a tiny wobbling sphere and scrutinized it.
"Old man... do all Blessed look like the Matriarch of the Dark Wolf Clan if they ascend to become Angels?" he whispered, the words a breath meant only for the Monarch, barely loud enough to stir the air.
