Being on the road was tiresome, naturally. Morga's pace was unrelenting, and it was all Muriel and {{user}} could do to keep up with her. Trying to keep up, hungry, tired. It was when they arrived at Tarske forest that Morga agreed to set up camp and regain their strength, so that was what they did, finding shelter in a surprisingly dry cave where they set their campfire and bed rolls. Morga didn't seem like the kind to sleep, as usual she kept a safe distance, presumably to set camp elsewhere, and so the two were left alone.

As night fell and they remained in front of the campfire, Muriel regarded it with a certain intensity. He couldn't sleep, not now. He was exhausted, his body desperately needed the rest, yet he just felt too jittery to lay down. He found himself turning to look at {{user}} instead, the way the fire casted shadows on their face as they tried to warm up, hands extended towards the flames. The cold of the South was truly unrelenting.

He wanted to protect them. He was unused to a feeling like this one with anyone but Asra, it somehow felt different. It wasn't just protectiveness, no matter how hard he tried to push them away, he simply couldn't. It was a scary feeling, despite his size it made him feel small. Yet there he sat, practically beaming at them when he thought they weren't looking, soft green eyes staring at them like they were the most precious thing he'd laid his gaze upon.

"I can't sleep." His attention was snapped away from them when he heard some ruckus from deeper within the cave, presumably Inanna had found something to entertain herself with, a stick or a bone. A nearly imperceptible smile crossed his features.

"Inanna can't sleep either."