Found:
It's been a difficult time.
The fear. The dread. Watching him fade. Watching him slip away inch by inch. I kept it together for the most part. No weakness, not where anyone could see. No tears.
I tried so hard for all of them. To calm her, to not argue with the other, to keep my temper, to take some of the pressure off the healer, to keep myself busy, to make myself useful.
But I wasn't. Not really.
So, I dug a hole and stoked a fire, boiled some water, made a crappy little shelter. So what? It was nothing. I couldn't do what the others do. I can't hunt or fish worth a damn, or offer comfort or cook or heal. Even at the last, I just sat there.
Helpless.
I hate being helpless.
But even when the worst was over, when he looked fit to recover, it didn't end. The stress. It increases by the day. Gnawing. Crushing. Building and twisting in a seemingly endless tirade.
It's not me this time. I see it too.
I know. This isn't you. Not directly. Everything that happened leading up to that time, everything that happened during it, everything since...
There's no time to just breathe. No space to think. No room for solitude. Surrounded constantly by people and noise and expectations and needs.
Steel has been sulking. I was forced to ride in a cart as we made our way from Nen Harn to Buckland. It took me an hour to convince him to let me ride him again. He can be so possessive at times, especially for a horse!
I was glad when he decided that he just wanted to run, Headstrong, wayward thing that he is. When he wants to do something, there's little that can stop him. So, we ran. Well, he ran and I rode.
For the first time in what feels like an age, we were alone. Just me and Steel. The wind in my hair, the sun on my face, the sound of his hoof beats upon the turf. I needed that. I needed that freedom. I needed that moment...
I'm being selfish again.
This little trip is for my sake, I know that. I'm taking them to my island so they can rest and recuperate in peace and safety, but we all know that doing so is really just a byproduct of the real reason we're going to Evendim. For me.
It just makes it worse somehow. I should be grateful that they want to come, that this long-shot meant so much to him that he insisted even in his condition, and I am. But I also know that we're all tired and cantankerous. Tension is high, the road is long and I can't help but feel that I'm dragging them all this way for nothing.
What if it doesn't work? What if the guardians didn't get the message and won't let me pass? What if it was too soon to go? What if such a lengthy travel undoes all the work they did? What if he gets worse again? What if...
Thoughts circling like sharks. Around and around the thrashing, flailing splashes caused by all the disquiet of the group at large. Some of it may be imagined. Some of it may be blown out of proportion. Some of it may be well-deserved. But at the end of the day, it all comes down to one thing:
If he falls now, it'll be my fault.
