Disclaimer: All copyright belongs to Blizzard

Author's note: Hey kiddo's! I finally found the time to write the second chapter. I know it's even shorter than the first chapter, but I promise I'll try to make the next ones longer!

P.S.: Without begging for them I would kindly like to ask you to review my story... Oh, what the heck. Fine. I'll beg for your reviews! Please, please, please!

O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O O

After she convinced the farmers to let her stay to take care of the man upstairs, she settled in his room. Since he only woke up sporadically, he wouldn't even notice she'd made a little makeshift bed on the rug with some blankets and pillows.

Although Asmië and Cadn had told her that she didn't have to pay them, she couldn't simply stay in their house without doing something in return. While they were out harvesting crops or milking their cows, she would tidy their house together with Grethell, their daughter.

Every two hours she checked on the worgen upstairs. His condition seemed to be improving slowly but steadily and on the evening of the second day, he had turned on his side to stare at the door when she entered. At first she had been startled by his intent gaze on her when she stepped into the room. When she noticed his gaze shifting to her sleeping accommodations and saw a frown appearing on his face, she smiled awkwardly.

"You stayed with me?" He questioned her as his eyes drifted up to her face again. She simply nodded, unable to force any words out of her mouth. A quick observation of his face made it clear to her that he hadn't eaten for a while. Before she could suggest getting him some sort of meal, he asked her another question: "Why?"

Again, his interrogation of her actions was answered by a silence. She just stared at him, seeming rather dumbstruck. Tilliah had no idea what was happening to her. Usually she was such a smooth talker but now she couldn't even answer a simple question. After taking a deep breath, she finally replied with a quick: "Because you were injured."

She then turned on her heels and strode outside, calling over her shoulder: "I'll get you something to eat. Don't move."

He watched her hips sway as she moved out of his room. His room? Where was he anyway? He vaguely remembered two people, a man and a woman, dragging him out of a shallow, muddy stream. What had happened to him?

He blinked and looked up at the ceiling. He recalled that he was upset and had started running... south. At least he thought he had gone south. After hours of mindless running, he must've simply collapsed out of exhaustion. That was the only sensible explanation, since he had no wounds. Or perhaps he was injured internally... but he felt no pain. He shook his head to clear his thoughts as she heard silent footsteps enter his room again.

"Are you still awake? Good. I hope you like cheese. The bread may be a little stale but you'll get used to it." The woman who had stood in his room only minutes ago had returned with a platter filled with food. Almost on queue his stomach rumbled and she chuckled, sounding... nervous? Was that what she sounded like? He couldn't be sure since he'd only been awake for such a short while.

When she started walking towards his bed, he sat up, too fast. He squinted his eyes as the room became blurry and he felt dizzy. She seemed to notice and sat down next to him, steadying him with one arm as she held the other platter with her free hand. Was she actually holding that thing with one hand? It looked like it weighed a lot, filled with so much food. Then again, he may've just been imagining it since the room was still spinning.

She gently placed the platter on his lap and when she was sure he wouldn't fall over, she rose and sat down on her pile of blankets and pillows. He sniffed the food before he looked at it. The scents were mostly familiar, although he hadn't smelled some of them for years. The most prominent smells were the sharp tang of the cheese and the sweetness of the ripe melon slices. He devoured his food – all of it, although it looked like an impossible amount only a moment ago – and realized too late that he should've offered her something out of courtesy. He blushed underneath his fur and sat still for a long moment.

Tilliah noticed his suddenly rigid posture and tilted her head. "What's wrong?" She asked, feeling an impulse to reach out and help him.

"I ate all the food." He answered, his eyebrows furrowed as he continued staring at the platter on his lap.

She gave him a confused look before she replied: "I know. That's a good thing, no? You probably haven't eaten for days." She stood up and walked over to him, picking up the platter and turning to leave the room again.

"But I didn't offer you any food. I'm not usually this impolite."

She blinked before she turned towards him again, the smile on her face dripping with tenderness as she leaned towards him and ruffled his hair, something she usually only did with young kids. "Don't worry about it. You were starved. I'd probably do the same."

After that, she turned around again and went downstairs. Grethell, who was sitting on one of the wooden chairs, looked up from her knitting and flashed her a smile. "Will you be leaving now that it's better?" She asked, laying her thread and linen aside. She had, apparently, decided to call him 'it' too, like her father. This almost made her snap at the girl but since they'd been so hospitable it would only be fair that she remained polite.

"I will let you know in the morning. He's still weak so I'll be staying at least one more night to be sure that he'll be fine." Tilliah made sure to emphasise the word 'he'. She placed the platter on the table near the fire pit.

"I'm going out for a wa-..." Before she could finish her sentence, a loud thud sounded from upstairs, followed by a low, pained growl.