Looks like they were back to square one. ‘Listen, I heard from Sally about what happened last night and I’m sorry it didn’t work out between you...two.’ Tom’s attention had returned to the TV, and Layla was visibly pissed. ‘Hey, douchenozzle! Pay attention when I’m talking to you!’ Layla’s anger made it through Tom’s haze and he looked sincerely apologetic as he turned back towards her. ‘Sorry, Lays, you’ve been a great friend to me, it’s just I don’t care about anything anymore.’ Layla smiled. Unencumbered, I shifted myself.In Fenrim form it was much easier to see the swirling heat and energy that swirled around her. It was no Wizard's Sight. I wasn't seeing Magic, as Weaver might, but I was seeing the heat and energy involved in the changes happening within Moss' flesh and bone.Moss no longer, the Fenrim female in front of me rolled into a crouch suddenly and sprang away from the pool at a dead run. In her wildness she ran wherever the trees and the ground gave her room to. I. He had had a hard time figuring out which of his sisters was the prettiest to him. They were all so beautiful.She had held his arm to steady him to the shower, and put the stool in for him to sit while he was washing, peeking in through the curtain to make sure he was okay. He had caught the look that had passed between the two nurses, but nothing out of the ordinary had transpired. When he finished she pulled back the curtain, as she always did, and held him so he could dry off, and dry his. So she had made weapons for herself. A primitive bow, a few dozen arrows, and a spear. She had also made a couple of primitive knives, to spare the one she had inherited from Oli. She had also made, and worn down, a couple of woodpeckers. To enlarge an old bug-hole in the tree’s trunk. On this last day of fall, the old bughole was large enough to accomodate a cocoon. She had carefully lined the hole with dry moss, round fragments of sieve, and as many feathers as she had been able to get her.