Two hours passed before Ulrich woke.
His eyes opened suddenly.
He raised his head at once, only for pain to cut through him hard enough that a low grunt escaped his throat. His hand moved toward his side by instinct, but he stopped before touching the wounds beneath his loose shirt.
Airam stirred beside him.
She had not truly been asleep. She had spent most of the time sitting against the tree with one hand resting lightly near Ulrich's shoulder, watching the road and listening for anything moving through the woods.
When he moved, her eyes opened immediately.
Ulrich looked at her.
"How long?"
Airam glanced toward the sky.
The sun had shifted higher since they left the road, though the trees made it difficult to judge precisely.
"I don't know," she said.
Ulrich's expression darkened.
"Why did you not wake me?"
"You were sleeping."
That is the point, Ulrich wanted to say.
Sleeping was not the problem.
Stopping was.
But he did not say any of it.
