Kijani was immensely relieved as Mr. Croil seemed to come back to the present. He snatched a blanket from her and started to dry himself. It seemed to take ages. Part of her wanted to help him, because he seemed to be having such difficulty. It was no wonder- his fingertips were a sickly pale blue. Hers were barely better, but at least she was alert. Helping him would mean breaking a cardinal rule, though. She couldn't touch him, not that way. It would be... unthinkable.

Even he seemed to still be aware of that, as he mumbled for her to turn away. She did so with great speed, heat rushing to her cheeks. She could still hear him shuffling and trying to get out of his clothes, which lead to all sorts of thoughts and questions that a sensible, proper young woman should not be thinking about! Especially not at night... in the dark... alone with a man who was not properly dressed. Kijani rubbed her reddened face with both hands, trying to take the warmth of her embarrassment and give it to her fingers. She didn't move, and tried hard not to think.

Mr. Croil's shivering voice pulled her out of herself, and she peeked slowly on one side to make sure he was properly covered. Once she saw that it was safe, she turned and listened to what he was trying to say. Something about blankets. A horse blanket? Why would he want such a filthy thing? Then she understood, all in a rush. “Yes, share the blanket, share the warmth! I read this in one of my novels! Stay there, just... don't sleep.” She rushed off, picking her way through the dim light and trying to find the blanket.

It took her five precious minutes, several stubbed toes and more than one splinter, but Kijani came rushing back with the horse blanket billowing behind her. It smelled like animal sweat and hay, but it was thick, wool, and most importantly, completely dry. She knelt and pulled it from her own shoulders, wrapping it around Mr. Croil quickly. “There.” Leaning back once he was fully covered, her arms went reflexively around her body as she tried to keep herself warm. “A-are you still awake, Mr. Croil? Please don't... don't rest. I heard that if you sleep when you are this ill, you stand a chance of not waking up ever again.” Her hands moved in a fidgety motion that was strangely warming.

“I really would rather you not die. So, as a request from a lady to a gentleman... don't.” She chuckled, but the noise of mirth was weakened by a bout of violent shivering. “I-if I tell you a story, will you s-ss-sss-” She let out a sneeze that racked her whole body. “Ouch. Will you stay awake?”

He had started to drift off moment after Kijani ran off in search of the old horse blanket. It was getting harder and harder for Victor to stay awake, and the effort of keeping his eyes open was simply too much without some sort of stimulus. The former soldier couldn’t recall any time in his life where he had been so exhausted. With his back against the wall and the heap of burlap sacks over his body, Victor’s head started to loll forward sleepily. How simple it would be just to sleep… just for a few minutes… That couldn’t hurt, could it?

The sound of Kijani’s voice jerked him awake again, his head snapping up to then wobble unsteadily upon his neck. It took several blinks before he could start to focus on the young woman. The itchy blanket being wrapped about him brought a little more warmth to his ice cold limbs, but it was not enough to fully rouse him once more. Kijani was saying something, that much was clear! But what?

“Story?” Victor finally mumbled. The memory of her reading to him on the hill came floating back to him through the haze of the hypothermia, and he suddenly found himself longing for the sound of her voice. Kijani’s voice was nearly as beautiful as she was. The sweet sounds of her voice were sure to keep him awake; Victor nodded and gasped out, “Y-yes. Story, pl-please? About you. Something.., warm… and nice… in the sun…

Lifting his head to meet her gaze, some remaining spark of rational thought saw her shiver and sneeze beneath the her own collection of burlap sacks. That was not good. Not good at all! He was her host, and he should be seeing to her safety and comfort! Instead, she was freezing as well. Perhaps not as much as he was at the moment, he wryly thought to himself, as she hadn’t been the one to keep pushing herself even after they reached the safety of the mill. But regardless, they both needed warmth. The mill had nothing in which they could build a fire, either.

With a trembling hand, he pulled back one corner of the blanket for her. “G-get under first. There’s enough sacks b-b’tween us… Safe enough…” Victor gave a weak chuckle. “You’re more… more a threat to me… than me to you!”