"I'm surprised at you, Eragon."
Eragon stirred out of the doze he fell in. They had been walking for what felt like a few minutes. How far was this house from the village? Was it as far as Roran's house?
"What?"
"I wasn't expecting you to apologize."
"Oh." Eragon scowled again at the unpleasant reminder and clenched onto the older's boy shirt as a result.
"You're not going to choke me to death now, are you?" Roran said, sounding a bit strained and worried. Eragon loosened his hold, his expression remaining sour.
"Don't be ridiculous. You're carrying me. I would fall."
"Gee. Thanks." Silence. Roran had been walking steadily towards a house that Eragon now noticed was in front of them, leaving behind the noise of raucous laughter. Then he slowed.
"…but in all seriousness, uhm," Roran said, sounding unsure. Eragon felt Roran's hand twitch under his knee, as if to reach for the back of his head to scratch, as was his habit when he was uncomfortable. He waited for him to continue. "…thanks. I was angry at you for a while because of that. But I already figured it's because you didn't truly understand what it all meant. Dying, I mean. Not that I understand it much myself, eheh." He laughed sheepishly, then stopped.
Eragon said nothing.
"And I'm… sorry. For yelling at you. Back at the forest, I mean."
Eragon huffed. "It was well-deserved."
Roran glanced over his shoulder, and Eragon could see just the hint of a grin on the boy's face. "You're right."