Some shred of common sense that survived being passed through the portal was telling her to be wary. She was a woman alone in the forest with a strange man. Yet something deeper, and more instinctual assured her that Emilian was a safe person who could be trusted. When the fire began to die down into orange-glowing embers, and her eyes lids were growing heavy, he offered her the space inside the small shelter he had built.
"I'm sorry it's so primitive," he said humbly, making a sweeping gesture over the pile of straw in the three-sided lean-to. He spread his robe over the makeshift bed for her. She suddenly felt so weary that she didn't care how simple the bed was, as long as she could stretch out her body and lay her head on something. Before she crawled in, she looked back at him. "But where will you sleep?"
"I will keep watch out here," he said, adding another piece of wood to the fire. "I will guard you while you sleep."
