Her own gaze looks at his legs when he stretches them out, frowning. She wondered if they could find a way to slow down a bit, maybe take it easy for a day before going back on the road. All of this travel was going to wear them out and if the next place was going to be like the last, they were going to be in over their heads in no time. Her jaw works a bit before it opens, ready to offer to make something for him so his legs hurt a little less, but his tone changes. Her heart skips a beat when he says her name, eyes a bit wide, but she’s not sure why.
And… he’s asking about food. An amused smile crosses her lips and she sighs, during some of the dirt off her trousers before she’s standing upright, “There is, actually,” she says, thinking he had a change of heart at the last moment. Something in the way he had looked at her, spoke to her, and then pivoted aggressively. But, Norah doesn’t ask. Doesn’t want to make him feel pressured. Hands slide into her pack and pluck out a wrapped loaf of bread, giving it a shake at him before she’s moving back. This time, she sits a bit closer to him, legs touching and feet tapping against each other while she settles next to him, “Here. I know a growing boy like you needs his food.” An elbow nudges him, smiling. Oh Maker, she can’t help it, “Were you really going to ask about food?”
Where had she developed that ability to see through him? Alistair can’t help the way his eyebrows arch upwards curiously as he listens to her, eyes carefully watching her face in the lowlight provided by the fire. Orange and gold dances before them and casts shadows across Norah’s face that obscure most of her features -- but occasionally, then the fire cooperates with him -- he can make out the freckles that dust her cheeks. As the bread is pulled from her pack, a pang of guilt quickly washes across the Warden as he realizes that she’s about to offer him the last bits of whatever she has.
The feeling quickly vanishes when she nears him, eyes quickly darting to the ground as he feels a flush rise to his cheeks. Can she tell? Something tells him that she knew -- and there it was. Norah is gently elbowing him in the side as she hands him the bread, asking what his true intentions had been. He can’t help but sigh as he realizes that he has back himself into a corner. “I .. no.” Alistair didn’t care about the food. “I was going to tell you..” Maker, how did he even start?
“I really admire you, Norah. After everything we’ve been through, you somehow manage to not let it completely turn you against the world.” His smile is lop-sided and shy as he looks towards her. It wasn't an earth-shattering confession in the least, but to Alistair, it was still something.