"It's raining," Noire explained as she merged their bedrolls into one.
Severa sighed, thinking and saying out loud, "There isn't even any thunder."
Making a sound of vague agreement, Noire stayed where she was, a blanketed lump next to her. Severa sighed and remained on her back with her eyes shut for a moment, trying to carry on as she had before Noire came. The rain collected where the tent canvas sagged, and audibly dripped into a growing puddle somewhere to her left.
Severa's curiosity got the better of her. She rolled over towards Noire, their faces so close that Severa's eyes couldn't focus on her, and said, "Hey."
"Mmn?"
Severa just moved forward a little bit and bumped their foreheads in question. Noire's eyelids fluttered in thought.
"Do you ever miss your mother?" Noire murmured.
"No," Severa said automatically.
"Oh." Noire hugged a part of her blanket in a wad against her chest. "I do sometimes. I guess that's pretty weird, huh."
In the pause that followed, Severa furiously picked herself apart—it wasn't like her mother was even there that much, it was mostly her dad, and from what she remembered her mother mostly just looked at her with disapproval anyway, so why should she have any reason to miss her, really—and in the safety of her own head, far away from her lungs breathing Noire's breaths, she grudgingly realized that she did.
Noire was quiet, her breath stale and damp. Severa muttered, "Yeah, I guess I do too," feeling thin and cold.
Noire gave a hum. She pressed their knees together.