Then she ducks into it and flops.
Zeviana helps dilligently, and then sits down next to her brother when the tent's up.
She looks at him.
"Yup. Sucks, and I kind of want to go back and kill Anlon, but. Someone would have made a face at me for that." She nudges him.
"He knew, but that doesn't make him a completely voluntary colluder, she had obviously been working on him as much as anyone else."
"He bitched out at my brother for not wanting to be hugged after he learned that he was mind-raped. That shit is not the magic talking."
"No but people who are grieving say all kinds of things."
Shara sighs, and ducks into the tent for the night too.
"- Sh, sh, stop that, I can see you are already freaking the fuck out."
"Zeviana you'd - they were - it's comparable to rape, are you okay?" he hisses.
"Yup. Peachy. Occasionally I want to eviscerate some things, but I am not freaking out as much as you are, it was just sex. I had fun and I started a lot of it and enjoyed myself."
Adarin makes a little sound in his throat and looks extremely concerned.
"Yeah I was used, yeah I got manipulated and magicked and fucked. But she is dead now, and I can freak out and be traumatized or I could shrug it off and move on, guess which one I'm going with?"
"Shhh. Shh. It's okay. Promise. You're not allowed to freak out about my health and safety when I am sitting here, telling you with complete honesty that I am fine."
"Okay," he pronounces. "If you're sure."
She scoots over, gives him a quick hug (because he looks like he needs it) and then, into the tent she goes. Sleep. Sleep is a thing she wants right now.
Adarin doesn't feel like sleeping, right now. He props himself up against a tree, and starts dissecting his head for actual opinions of the people he's been around for the last three years, rather than magic ones.
He's still there, in the morning, fast asleep.
Shara's up in the morning before Kayam. She builds a little fire - she has a artifice foldable knife with a finicky firestarter in one of the compartments, which helps - and fetches some water from the stream they're following and tries to be quiet as she sets about boiling a pot of beans.
Then she retrieves a blanket from inside the tent and drapes it over him.
Shara drops a spice packet into the beans and stirs them contemplatively, then pulls out a notebook and writes in it, also contemplatively.