Sleep was definitely not to be had that night.
Nearby murmuring awoke him shortly after he drifted off. The muttering grew more frantic and he pulled himself to sitting, peering in the gloom at the prone girl at his side. His hand found the ties of his rucksack and withdrew one of his smokes, which he put to his lips unlit as he leaned in closer to her. Her eyes were yet closed, so she was speaking to her dreams.
He shifted himself closer to the girl and silently observed the shadows of the dying campfire illuminating her sweet face, now twisted in mounting panic. He deliberated for a time whether to gently wake her, but when she batted her hands into the darkness to ward off her dream-assailant he took his cue. Firmly he held his arm straight out over her body and allowed her hands to connect with flesh and blood.
Kitten awoke with a start after the impact. Her face progressed through looks of fright, anger and confusion as she gained consciousness. The traveler shifted himself back away so as not to scare her and spoke to her in low tones, explaining that she had been dreaming. Then he lit his smoke and blew a long, thin line into the night air. He needed the warmth.
She seemed to calm down slowly, but shivered as she sat upright. The traveler leaned towards the pile of dried clothing, pulled out his torn cloak, and handed the wad of tattered cloth to her. She did not wrap it around her but hugged it to herself as she continued to shake slightly.
Not sure how to comfort the girl, he invited her to share her nightmare. She replied that she had dreamt of a fire, but said nothing more. He paused, looked down to his pipe-weed, and immediately extinguished it by grinding it into the dirt. No sense in bringing her fears to waking life.
The girl was still quivering in the cool air. He suggested that she wrap his cloak around herself, but she defiantly claimed that she was not cold. The traveler thought perhaps she was now attempting to save face and pointed out that she was shivering. And then things got worse.
She grew agitated, stood and paced. Asked repeatedly for water, or if he had seen a river or lake nearby. He could not immediately recall where there had been any water except what was in her waterskin.
Kitten simply walked off then, leaving him standing by the remaining embers of the borrowed campfire, perplexed. Perhaps it was his exhaustion from the long night, but it almost seemed as if the campfire dwindled noticeably with her departure. He shook his head and stood a time, unsure what to do. Eventually, he followed her into the darkness of the Delving Fields.
Listening for her soft footfalls far ahead of him, he called out to her but she did not respond. He decided not to overtake her for fear of frightening the addled girl even more than she apparently was, so he slowed his own pace to keep some careful distance between them.
She ended her hurried flight at the edge of a small stream. When he caught up to the girl she was bent down at the shore, cupping the water and splashing her face with it. The traveler stopped to catch his breath and silently observe her before he spoke, gently telling her that he would have gone to fill her waterskin had she asked. She made a frustrated noise, claiming she was not thirsty but too warm. And then she stood and strode right into the winter-chilled water.
He moved quickly to the water's edge, disturbed by the turn of events. He tried to reason with her, fearing that whatever madness her young mind harboured would end the night tragically. But Kitten ignored him and floated in the icy water heedless of her well being and safety, or even, truthfully, his pacing anxiety at the shore nearby.
After an uneasy few moments, she decided to return to land. He rushed to her side, offering her his hand to help her out of the creek while admonishing her for now being soaked and cold. But when she placed her small, smooth hand inside his, her skin was not chilled at all. It was surprising warm.
As soon as she was out he backed away from her several paces, tore open his rucksack and helped himself to another hasty smoke. There would not be enough pipe-weed in all the Shire to ease his bewilderment, but he would be damned if he did not give it a solid try. He took several short draws and released all his tension in one big inelegant cloud of grey smoke. The girl tried to apologize, but he had not smoked enough yet to address her.
He finished his first and was well into his second before he asked her if she were well. He kept his voice soft and neutral despite the vexation he felt, for he knew she was at least somewhat mad and needed to be handled gently from there on out. She only stuttered about having a nightmare.
The traveler suggested that he go retrieve her belongings from Waymeet which she had left behind in her haste, especially since she required a change of clothing. He began to walk back to the road but then turned to her again, still troubled and wanting answers. He asked if she would be explaining what happened or if she would be keeping her secret. She was afraid that he would laugh at her, as apparently he had before.
He left her by the water's edge as he strode away, contemplating everything. Especially his life choices.
