When the girl awoke again, she was in the same spot, and quickly turned over to face the man. He was still there, in the same position she had left him in. She realized that she had slept through the night, and it was now the next morning. Her clothes were still damp, but his were dry, and the blue color of his lips and fingers wasn't there anymore. She wearily got up and went through her knapsack. She pulled out some meat and started to thoughtfully chew it as she stared at the man. It had lost some of it's flavor, for it had been soaking wet, as was everything else she owned.
The man just lay there, and the girl just sat there, as if he were to wake up any moment. Her instincts told her not to be frightened of him, though she still wondered if he was on her side, and not one of her enemies. He carried a sword. It was long and still tucked neatly in its' sheath. He also carried an empty quiver at his back, but no bow. A dagger also was being forced into the sand by his weight.
The girl continued looking him over, inch by inch, but never touching him. He breathed uneasily, and she did not know what he would do if he awoke. Suddenly, he rolled on his back and started to mumble unintelligible words. Cautiously, the girl leaned in a little closer as to try to understand what he was saying. His body tensed as if something had struck him hard, and then he sighed and relaxed, shifting his body a little in the sand.
She sat back and drew her knees up to her chest, never taking her eyes off the man. She finished her meat and looked around her, as if someone was watching. Just plains, endless plains she saw, and she knew she would have to cross them soon, whether the man awoke or not.
As dark was approaching, she got up to gather wood for a fire. Once she had a descent one blazing, she peeled off her clothes and layed them down to dry. After she had eaten again, she lay down on the opposite side of the fire from the man, and propped her head up on her elbow so she was facing him. She didn't know why she kept looking at him. She just stared, and never thought about dressing his wounds or trying to force-feed him or warm him. 'Just best to let him die, I suppose,' she thought.