Intervar woke up after nearly an hour. He cautiously opened his eyes and blinked a number of times before getting to his feet and stretching.
He scanned his side for scars, but nothing appeared to have happened; his side was entirely clear. His arm, on the other hand, felt as if Donn had gnawed it.
He removed his arm and discovered that it had been rubbed raw; he had left it on for too long. He blamed himself for not tending to it sooner, but clenched his teeth and replaced the arm. It was pointless to cry over spilt milk at this point.
He craved a smoke, but remembered his grandfather's warning about not smoking in the house.
He returned his gaze to Donn, who had rolled over on her side and had entirely ignored him when he got up.
He grinned and strolled down the hall to the kitchen, his mood brightening slightly. He felt like he hadn't eaten in years.
