The orange wisps of fire crackled brightly in the midst of the dark night. Xion rubbed his hands in a vain attempt to warm his cold hands.
The chill seeped deep into his bones. He shivered, his teeth faintly chattering. He did not expect the night to go this cold.
He glanced longingly at the campfire in the center of the clearing. Its golden glow danced across the surrounding busy figures and cast floaty shadows over the surface of the tents.
He remained where he was, sitting against the trunk of the same big tree, and looking at the cozy flames with yearning.
Ray was there, and Xion thought better than to go near the knight at this time.
Rael did not ask him to cook dinner for him, which Xion was glad about.
He was not in the mood to cook another dish at the moment.
He tilted his head up, and his hood slid under the effect of gravity. His deep blue eyes reflected the starry sky. For a moment, he forgot his frozen hands and the chill biting at his nose.
