The days pass so quickly, or so it seems to me. I while them away cleaning and cooking, tending to my patient and my hound.
Arugru is improving no end; his skin is finally clean and devoid of scabs. His fur is starting to grow in earnest now - soon it shall hide the scars of his head and muzzle. Perhaps then he shall feel whole again. For the most part he rests, despondant in his repose. I must find a way to lift his spirits, this most dear of companions, and remind him of how much he usually enjoys the chance to lie by a fireplace.
Likewise, Cyfier is improving drastically. He should be fit enough to resume his usual routine within the next day or two. On the one hand this heartens me greatly for it means he is recovered and once more hale. To know that he is healthy is a wonderful feeling, yet it brings with it some worry. He will depart, take up his blade once more and place himself in dire peril. I will worry for him day and night until he finds it possible to sneak his way to me once more. Then I shall enjoy his company all too breifly before he once again departs and my fears for his safety return. It is wholly incorrect of me to desire that his incarceration here be prolonged for that would mean wishing him ill health, but I cannot help wanting him to stay for that bit longer. This is selfish of me, I know, especially when he puts himself in such a position out of fear for my security.
Perhaps it is the knowledge of the days to come that is causing my own ill health. I keep this hidden from my love, of course, for he needs me to be strong and I cannot risk him becoming anxious for me lest his own well-being suffer. Nevertheless, I must admit to myself if no other that I have been increasingly quick to tire as the days go by. My stomach is quite unsettled when my attention is not completely occupied with one task or another.
I will miss this, I think. There is something deeply rewarding in such a simple and settled life lived with the one you love. But is this not what he is fighting to gain? Is this not what he works towards? Perhaps, then, this small taste of what might be will serve as an incentive for him and a reminder to myself that my patience will one day grant me a great boon.
