The tent was too small to hold the nightmare.
"Hey" Obi said softly from the flap. One hand on Raizen's shoulder, careful - firm enough to be real, not so much that it had to be fought. "You with me?"
Raizen nodded because breathing was hard work and nodding was cheaper.
Obi's face was half-shadow from the banked fire outside, half the thin glow that spilled through the tent seam. For once he wasn't wearing a grin like armor. He listened with his whole head turned, as if the night might answer him if he looked respectful enough.
"Come on" he said. "You need to see this."
"What is it?" Raizen's voice came out scraped.
"Private ping" Obi said, and lifted his slate. The display was dimmed, coordinates shivering on a map like a heartbeat. "Lighthouse. She didn't want to wake the whole camp. You weren't answering-" a glance at Raizen's hands told him why "-so she sent me. And before you ask, yes, everyone else is either bleeding, sleeping, or pretending not to be either."
