She led him to a small alcove against the village walls. She had set up a fire pit, but hadn’t lit it, not wanting to draw attention to the site when they weren’t there. It was in a small flower grove, with red tulips and daisies and lavender growing, perfuming the air. She had set out his sleeping bag too, the spot chosen specifically to protect him from the windchill.
She looked down in surprise at the bags. “No! I forgot,” she replied, slipping off her cloak and shrugging on the yellow cloak. It was clearly several sizes too big for her and the hem trailed in the grass, but she lifted her arms in triumph. “It fits perfectly!”
She frowned, looking a little nervous. “Maybe,” she mused, placing her hands over the sticks in the fire pit.
He looked up at her. "Relax. It's different from stone because you're summoning your own energy and exerting it. For moving the stone you combined your energy with the wall and moved it, rather than exerting."
She looked up at him thoughtfully, evidently finding comfort in his eyes. She looked back down and her fingers loosened as she tilted her head thoughtfully.
Her shoulders relaxed and she leaned down a little, brushing her fingers gently over the surface of the wood.
He squinted, raising an eyebrow. She would be able to slowly summon the energy, finding a solid control over it tonight.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and he would see her tilt her head almost curiously, approaching the feeling as if it were a friendly stranger. Her hands straightened out, and her wrists were thin and prominent in the evening gloom.
She didn’t see it, her eyes still closed. She pressed her fingers gently to the wood in the fire pit, feeling the grain and pouring the energy into it.
