Jaken's feet hit the ground in hurried steps.
Rin is following.
Him.
The night air is cold, and he drags his staff with shivering hands as he searches for a place to keep the girl warm.
The moon.
Is blue.
Blue like he knows her lips are, if he could see them. He commands the Heads to blow a burst of flame, and hastens on.
Time has.
Run out.
And he realizes he must stop where he is, because the sounds are shallow and slow as her breath rings in his ears.
The wood.
Is wet.
He settles beside her, vigilant, as he knows he must be. And he makes the staff breathe their embers well into the night, until his knees shake from exhaustion.
And he.
Keeps on.
A smile is on her lips as she sleeps. His eyelids are heavy and his skin is cold, but somewhere inside; Jaken is warm.