Jay hears Winnie at last, jerking around to face her, a compound bow gripped in one hand. It is his bow, she notices, that he lent her a few weeks ago when they first went into the forest to train together. The sun slides over him. No darkness, only light. And a muscle feathers in his jaw as she approaches. His eyes—those gray, gray eyes … They throb with something more than mere exhaustion. She can’t tell what. She used to know everything Jay was thinking; now she can’t tell a thing. She is hopeful, though, that in time she’ll learn the new tics and traits of him. He is so much more than just
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