803

The woman had a furtive look in her eyes, a look of sheer terror. Her actions were sudden, and her lips had come together as if to stifle a scream. She ran up to the lift and jabbed the call button savagely. The lift had been on the eighth floor, her own. She cursed out loud.

She had to get home, she had to get--

A car entered the parking lot with an ear-splitting screech. His car. She felt her heart thunder against her ribcage. He was here.

Mir

Mir walked slowly, every step sending a strained message to his brain. To stop. To lie down. To give it a rest. It had been a long day, like every other. Mir should relax.

The saner, wiser part of him argued vehemently against those pleas. If he stopped, he wouldn't be able to get back up. And then a kind villager would have to carry him to his shack. He wouldn't be able to bear that sort of humiliation again.