“Makes sense. I was only ten when we moved to Sahara Base to escape the Jegg. It took me a solid month to get used to sleeping there. You'll adapt.”
“Hrm,” she mumbled. She moved her hands to her bottom, which she gently rubbed. “Don't tell my mother I said this, but I really don't like riding merychs. My rear hasn't been this sore since I rode my first chava.”
He chuckled. “Try crossing the entire Praskian Desert on one.”
She smiled, but it quickly faded. “I'm scared, Davin.”
He placed the box on the ground and moved over to her, arms spread wide. Taking the cue, she stepped into him, placing her head gently on his chest.
Their arms folded around each other. Neither spoke for many long moments.
“We're going to win, Nyla,” he whispered into her ear. “We're going to win.”
She nodded
