ELIA
She startled when the door opened, but then she was flooded with relief to see Gahrye walk in, his face a thundercloud, but two large bags of books, one in each hand, that he brought straight towards her.
"I'm glad you're awake," he said quietly. "I have something to tell you."
"What is it?" she croaked.
Gahrye stopped cold, then hurried across the floor. "What is it? Why are you pale? Are you sick? What's going on?"
He placed the bags—very carefully—on the coffeetable in front of where she sat, then joined her on the couch, putting a hand to her forehead and leaning in to smell her.
Elia still hadn't ever gotten used to that way of the Anima to use scent to determine what was going on with a person. But she shook her head and pushed him back without comment on that. They had bigger fish to fry.
"I shifted again," she said, then gulped.
Gahrye blinked. "But you got back. I mean—"
