Slowly, awkwardly, Sol reached out. He wrapped his strong, heavy arms around her shaking shoulders and pulled her against his chest.
Kira didn't resist. She collapsed into him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Her hands came up to grip the fabric of his torn tunic like a drowning sailor clinging to a lifeline. She cried her eyes out, the hot tears soaking into his skin, her athletic body wracked with violent, rhythmic sobs.
Sol just held her. He let the tectonic, grounding weight of the Great Badger flow passively into his muscles, turning himself into an immovable, stable anchor in the middle of her emotional hurricane.
He rested his chin on the top of her head, smelling the faint scent of rain and wild flowers in her hair, entirely ignoring the grime and dust covering his own body.
They sat like that for a long time. The only sounds in the room were the soft crackle of the dying fire and her ragged, exhausted breathing.
