Night was still creeping upon us, and I wasted no time in preparing the ginger as a mid sedative and anti-inflammatory. I smile at Isabelle, silent and staring into the fire, and hand her the cashew fruit. She takes it, warmed from my expression, and bites into it. Her eyes brighten at the taste and she pushes more twigs into the fire. I gave her the job of tending it.
"We will leave by morning." I assure, and she suddenly gazes into the jungle, eyes glazing.
"If only you were straight." She mumbles.
"Why?" I ask.
"Because we could find an old temple and live there. Sarawut would be our elder, and you could get married to me instead of...Sean." She grits out his name, and my own fingers tighten. She lets her face fall into her hands.
"Why did he leave? Was he so selfish? Did he not tr
