Raju sighs. Francis is watching the window, and Raju is watching Francis. He doesn’t quite trust his own mind yet, and he isn’t comfortable enough with the impossibilities of this place to make many assumptions about it and be sure. But he trusts Francis’ judgement, and it does make sense.
“It wouldn’t be the first time odd fog was a sign of something terrible.”
There’s nothing he can do about the fog, or his own mind. But he can start a fire in the fireplace and warm up, now that he’s starting to care about the cold again. He stands with another sigh, quieter, and walking around Francis to get to where he’d put Raju’s blanket gives him the excuse to trail his hand over Francis’ shoulders as he passes behind. It won’t be enough when he’s feeling like this, but it’s something.
“But those other times only lasted so long,” he points out, digging in the pocket where he keeps stone and steel and tinder and pulling it out. “How long did they, would you say? And how long has it been? It’s hard to keep track of the time like this.”
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“It wouldn’t be the first time odd fog was a sign of something terrible.”
There’s nothing he can do about the fog, or his own mind. But he can start a fire in the fireplace and warm up, now that he’s starting to care about the cold again. He stands with another sigh, quieter, and walking around Francis to get to where he’d put Raju’s blanket gives him the excuse to trail his hand over Francis’ shoulders as he passes behind. It won’t be enough when he’s feeling like this, but it’s something.
“But those other times only lasted so long,” he points out, digging in the pocket where he keeps stone and steel and tinder and pulling it out. “How long did they, would you say? And how long has it been? It’s hard to keep track of the time like this.”