[This post is from Cameron’s point of view.]
It was colder in the hall than Cameron had honestly expected and he shivered slightly, chafing his hands over bare arms. Thordin glanced at him again, a frown creasing his forehead.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“You don’t think it’s cold?”
The question was met with a grimace and a shrug. “Colder than it was when we went to bed, sure. It’s a clear night out there.” Thordin shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He was wearing a sweatshirt, though, something Cameron hadn’t quite thought to grab when they’d left.
Too late now. Not going back—I might wake Neve. Cameron just gave a last shiver and reminded himself that soon they’d be near the fire and he wouldn’t need to worry about wanting a sweatshirt.
“You nervous?”
“About what?” Cameron asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.
“Planning this shit,” Thordin said. “What might be happening in the very near future?”
“Are you?”
Thordin shot him a grin that was half cheeky, half death’s head. “What do you think?”
“I think we’re all scared shitless and trying to pretend that we’re not,” Cameron said, then exhaled, shaking his head. “High stakes and it’s something more ballsy than anything we’ve ever thought about doing before. I think it’ll work, though. We just have to trust ourselves and each other. Whatever we come up with, it’ll work.”
“That’s some serious confidence.”
“Yeah, well.” Cameron shrugged as they stepped out into the night air, chilly enough to make his skin pucker. “That’s what we’re all playing at, right? Maybe if we’re confident enough without tipping into arrogance, we’ll pull through. Either way, we’re going to come up with a good plan. We’re going to put all of our heads together, we’re going to pool all of our collective knowledge, and we’ll figure out how to beat this bad once and for all.”
Thordin stayed silent for a few seconds, then nodded. “Those are the stakes.”
“Yeah. Yeah, they are.”
