Melianarrheyal

by G. Deyke

  ~*~

  “How much food is left?” I ask her when we stop to sleep.

  “If we are but halfway through the cave, it will not last us both.” She is lying on her stomach and hanging her finger in the river. Darkness trails from it where she kills the light. I want her to stop, to take away her hand, but I know it is not my place to stop her.

  “Then you must have it,” I say. “I can eat when we reach Qualin.”

  “Good,” she says. “Then we must reach it soon.”