Kael
The spoon slipped before it reached my mouth.
I caught it against the bowl and lost half the soup over the rim.
Nyx watched from the next bed. The curtains had been drawn back for lunch, leaving us with a clear view of each other's small failures.
"The bowl is closer now," she said.
"That was the intention."
"Good work."
I put the spoon down before my fingers could make a second decision for me.
The attendant brought a cloth. She wiped the table, moved the bowl within easier reach and left without suggesting that survival ought to make spilled lunch pleasant.
I liked her more every time she came back.
It was the eighth day of the seventh month. We had been out for a little more than a day. My body appeared to have used most of that time finding pains it had been too busy to mention below ground.
