’Twas long before Angus showed himself within the clearing again, and the maiden had succumbed to the warmth of the meat and her own exhaustion. She had stretched out to sleep, though her eyelids fluttered when he approached.
“I feared you gone,” she murmured, her voice drowsily low.
Angus was still shaken by her conviction that she understood him. He took refuge in teasing her as if she were a child, not a woman who tempted him in ways he would prefer not to be tempted. “And leave you with all the stew, such as it is?”
She smiled and he shed his cloak, helping her to sit up while he wrapped it around her. She yawned luxuriously, then lay down, thanking him once more for the meal. He took the pot silently and returned to his favored tree across from the fire, watching her eyelids droop.
