[ At some point, someone brings food and fresh changes of clothes for them both, thought Maya has yet to stir. Peter is offered a bath, a chance to wash away the blood and the chill.
For her own part, Maya remains where she lay through the night as the magic from Roland's blade mends her wounds. Though, even in her state, she can feel Peter's sorrow, his desperation, and tears stream silently down her cheeks.
The morning finds her considerably better, sore and stiff and oddly kind of hungry, but okay. Her eyes flutter open, and her first instinct is to find Peter. If he's nearby, she simply reaches for his hand. Her fingers feel a bit awkward, still in bandages as they are, and a bit stiff her the long night of healing, but she needs to feel her hand in his like she needs to breathe. ]
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For her own part, Maya remains where she lay through the night as the magic from Roland's blade mends her wounds. Though, even in her state, she can feel Peter's sorrow, his desperation, and tears stream silently down her cheeks.
The morning finds her considerably better, sore and stiff and oddly kind of hungry, but okay. Her eyes flutter open, and her first instinct is to find Peter. If he's nearby, she simply reaches for his hand. Her fingers feel a bit awkward, still in bandages as they are, and a bit stiff her the long night of healing, but she needs to feel her hand in his like she needs to breathe. ]