Hours passed… boring… super boring, because I've been sitting here for hours holding an unconscious girl that just copied my whole memories.
The storm above softened gradually— not all at once, just the sound of it softening, the drumming against the vine cave ceiling easing into something more like background noise.
I could hear more through it as it quieted. Somewhere above, chickens. Going about whatever chickens went about when the storm wasn't actively terrible anymore.
Then voices— muffled, distant, the village coming back to life. Doors clicking open. The creak and sway of rope bridges with weight on them again.
The village was waking up.
And yes, again… I was sitting in a cave with an unconscious girl in my arms, head in my shoulder, hands around me, which was its own kind of morning.
