“Three days?”

Nutuyikruk did not look, did not need to. For, she came to accept droplets from her wrists sending their echoes across the top of the river was his ghost finding its way into her path again.

Three days forward. Three days back, if they turned around in the night. More, for all he could have known.

Something tugged a corner of the girls lip up in a pleasant kind of way. He was ludicrous.

Too many words for it, and yet none could form a sentence. A slow shake of her head, and on the last, it moved over the right shoulder to look back.

There was that amber. She was starting to grow familiar with the shade.

“Crazy.”