No speaking (d)

I wake up in a meadow of green grasses, heavy with grain. The flowers of late summer, nodding their heads in the afternoon sun, greet me.

Someone walks up and sits beside me. I stand and move behind him, combing his dark copper hair. I then braid it in the fashion of the local warrior, over the ears and down the back of his head. He looks up, expectantly, waiting for me to speak. I do not.

After, I lie back down and go back to sleep.

He leaves, going back to his war.