The night was like a cage, trapping all living things within the narrow chapel of Degonris. Ralph and Verlet squeezed into the middle of the crowd, with Silvette not far to his right, offering an apologetic smile.
It was too cramped here, like a tin crammed with pickled sardines—and Ralph could swear the townspeople smelled far worse than any salted fish. The only thing that might be considered comfort... although it hardly could be, was Verlet using the crowding as an excuse to press half her body against Ralph, and that fragrance she carried from Naranya's morning light, thick enough to suffocate him.
"Verlet..."
"No!" Almost embedding Ralph's head into her chest, Verlet cut him off, "We can't trouble Silvette, can't take up too much space. Tonight, we can only rest like this. I can lend you my shoulder. My dear big bad wolf~"
"Is this a shoulder..."
Around them as if breaths had halted, the hollow gazes focused on the two.
