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She wished she could. She wished she could bury them deep within the recesses of her mind and pretend they didn’t exist. She couldn’t, not when they painted a story on her face she was forced to read every time she saw her own reflection in a mirror, or the bottom of a cup.

They haunted her wherever she went, and not even sleep could give her peace since they lingered in her dreams.

It didn’t help that whenever she told most people, their expressions would turn sympathetic.

Then they would spout nonsense.“I’m sorry for your loss, Emerie.”Or,“I’m so sorry you had to suffer through that.”

Their apologies were pointless. They didn’t change anything. They didn’t do anything to lessen her burdens, instead only worsening them.

Their pity made her feel weak, small, feeble.

She didn’t need the Duskwalker making her feel that way. Not when he had his own wounds to heal.

What if sharing her story only made his harder to swallow?

As Ingram finally walked on his own, yellow lifting into his orbs like a beacon of joy, she gave him a commiserating smile.

We are so alike. Our pasts are filled with loss and pain.The difference was: she’d had plenty of time to deal with it. She’d bandaged her wounds and just treated her infection when the symptoms of it flared.

Ingram was still bleeding.

On the battlefield, she wouldn’t check her infection when her comrades were bleeding out. She wouldn’t show them her older wound when they had a fresh one in their stomach.

Yet... it was obvious her lack of sharing was bothering him.

Maybe I could give him a watered-down version of it?

And, since he was managing to walk on his own, flaring a small amount of pride in her, she might as well spill it now.

“Okay. Since you wanted to know about me,” Emerie started, staring at the darkening horizon with the sun dropping behind them, “maybe I should start with when I was a child?”

When he tilted his head at her, she worried he wouldn’t comprehend a lot of it.

“I grew up in the southlands. There’s a town right near the border on the eastern side called Fishket. It’s not too far from the sea.”

“Is the southlands where that wall of tree trunks is?”

“Yep, exactly right. There’s a big wall of log spikes humans have built to keep most of the Demons out, but towns and villages still have their own for additional protection.” Emerie placed her hands behind her to clasp them, trying to appear as carefree as possible. “I lived there for most of my life. My parents were really good people who lived well in comparison to most. Because of this, they tried to share what they could with those who weren’t well off. They were highly respected within the town, so a lot of people flocked to them. I had a lot of friends when I was younger, since there were many children my own age.”

“Friends?” he asked.

“Like a companion, but many of them.”

He perked up. “Like my kindred?”

“No.” She smiled warmly with humour. “Not like your kindred. They were not related to me, but other humans that would spend time with me even though they didn’t have to.”

“I... see.” Then he cupped his beak, like he was deep in thought. He placed his hand on a tree trunk to steady himself. “Does that mean we are friends?”

“Sure. We’re friends,” she answered, and his orbs brightened in their yellow hue. “However, I had a special friend when I was really little. His name was Gideon. Our parents were really close, so I played with him a lot even though he was from the poorer side of town. When I was older and allowed to go out by myself, I was always with him.” She covered her mouth with a fist as she let out a small laugh. “He always got me into trouble because he was a rascal.”

“If he was special, does that mean he saw beneath your clothes?”

Emerie, taken aback by what he said, almost tripped and fell on her face.

“What? No!” She couldn’t believe he’d asked her that! However, she nervously rubbed her arm and averted her eyes to the forest. “Then again, I thought he would. Our parents were discussing an arranged marriage when we were young, but that never happened.” Just because she knew he’d ask about it, she quickly added, “Marriage is where two humans get together and form a family. A bond, if you will.”

For a few moments, he was silent. She peeked to find his orbs were dark yellow, rather than red with anger. It was a relief he wasn’t jealous.