Days passed. An unexpected hard snowfall slowed them for three days and trapped them in one particular town with Vica deciding it was only worth seeking refuge there so long as she isolated herself. So she spent all of her time sleeping and utterly alone except for Constantine's company, and unsettlingly, didn't seem to mind at all. Nothing even remotely stirred her anymore. If she wasn't eating, she was in bed, face down and still as death. On the third day, she didn't wake at all until he pulled the covers off the following morning to let her know it was time to go. She surrendered without a word, dressing herself in silence and more agreeable than he'd ever known her to be.
He didn't know if she even felt anything anymore. She felt still and stagnant, and even when he prodded her magic
