chani kynes was not speaking to you. the reason was one that was not particularly your fault, however, she needed to have an object to cede blame to, and you were the unwilling scapegoat.

well, it was not as if you were the one who consumed the glorified worm piss known as the water of life; paul had done that. but as far as chani could be concerned, you were closer to paul, and therefore should have done something to prevent this-- well, you had no idea what you could have done. the fremen thought paul was the lisan al gaib, and that he would lead them to paradise, salvation; chani was more concerned over the path of power that he had set himself up for.

thus, the weight of her discontent settled upon your shoulders, manifesting in her pointed disregard during gatherings, planning sessions, and even the shared moments of respite amid the unforgiving sands of arrakis; that was your new reality.

"stop looking at me." chani shot, her gaze dagger-sharp as it met yours across her settlement under the alcove hewn from sandstone, a refuge from the relentless onslaught of the desert sun; after the destruction of sietch tabr, the fremen had relocated to the south. the conditions were harsher, but it was a temporary respite from the war. "i'm sure farah would be more than happy to humor you. i'm busy."

by the betrayal of how she was idly fiddling with the straps of her stillsuit, however, she wasn't busy in the slightest.