BATISTA'S POV
The night had already grown cold, and the only light in the tent came from a small lantern swinging gently above our heads. I was buttoning my shirt slowly, my thoughts still tangled in the mess of everything that had happened earlier in the training grounds. Rain's words were still ringing in my ears, and no matter how I tried to push them away, they clung to me like a shadow.
I heard the tent flap rustle and turned.
Mira walked in.
Her eyes flicked around the tent before settling on Eric, who sat on the edge of his bed, wrapping another layer of cloth around his ankle.
"Hey," she said, softly. "I came to check on you. How's your leg?"
Eric gave her a look. It wasn't angry, just tired.
"Healer fixed it hours ago," he said flatly. "I'm fine."
Mira blinked like she hadn't expected that response. Maybe she had come with a different kind of energy, but it didn't land right.
"I'm sorry I didn't come earlier," she said, her voice a bit more gentle this time.
