She didn't look tired.
'How much control does that take?'
She caught him watching. Met his eyes for a second. Then looked forward again.
No expression. No warning. Just a flicker of something unreadable, the kind of thing you only noticed if you were already trying too hard.
He looked away first.
The trail bent to the left and narrowed again. The rock underfoot shifted from snow to hard-packed gravel. The sound of their steps changed with it.
Meren cleared his throat.
"Do we… say anything?"
Ren didn't turn. "To who?"
"I don't know. The universe maybe?"
"You want to say a prayer for idiots with knives?"
"I want to feel less weird about watching people melt."
"No one melted," she said. "They just stopped being relevant."
Lindarion frowned. "That's not better."
Ren flashed him a crooked grin. "Depends who you ask."