I felt like ten types of shit when I woke up the next day. My eyes felt gritty like sand had been rubbed in them, and my clothes were half-stuck to me with sweat and ash. Alistair still had his arms around me and his face was buried in my tangled hair. I had no idea when I'd fallen asleep, but I didn't want to face the world just yet. I no longer had the numb feeling; I felt raw, as if I'd been dragged through some kind of machine.
I felt Alistair stir and he shifted slightly, his arm tightening around my waist before he settled again. His wings had come out at some point while we slept, and they were curled around me as well, the feathers soft against my arms. I moved part of a wing out of my face and Alistair groaned. "You awake?" he mumbled, fatigue lacing his voice. I pulled his wing over me like a blanket before rolling onto my other side and tucking my head underneath his chin. "No." My voice was hoarse from the crying and it felt almost as gritty as my eyes. "Righty-o then