Erich ignored her and went to his saddlebag to dig out some food.
A deep thump sounded behind him and he whipped around.
The girl was back on the ground, lying on her side, her face grimacing in pain.
Avoiding his gaze, she pushed herself back into a sitting position and reached down for her foot. Handling it with great care, she lightly ran her fingers over a large, puffy, red bruise that covered her entire ankle.
Erich had seen a similar injury when Onric had fallen from a tall window as a boy. It had been a horrible accident and Onric had cried for days while he was unable to walk.
The girl’s eyebrows pinched together, and she used her good foot to push herself back onto her feet.
Erich jumped forward instinctively, knowing what would happen the second she put weight on her bad foot.
Sure enough, as she gingerly shifted her weight, her leg gave out and she collapsed onto the ground, her face twisted in a soundless scream.
Erich reached her too late to catch her, but he knelt at her side and quickly undid the rope around her wrists. “How did that happen?” he asked, unable to miss the single tear running down her cheek and the painful way her upper teeth were biting into her lower lip.
After rubbing her wrists, she tilted her face onto her free hands and closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep.
The motion confused him at first, until he realized she was answering his question with her hands instead of her mouth. He watched her intently.
She lifted her head and used her good foot to mimic kicking him.
“When you kicked me awake last night?” he asked.
She nodded.
“That must have been quite some kick,” he said, rubbing his shoulder. He wasn’t in pain from it. He narrowed his eyes at her. Was this some sort of trick?
She shook her head, her lips pursed.
“That’s not what happened?” he asked, confused and slightly relieved.
She nodded and made to stand again.
Erich held out his hands to steady her.
Once on her good foot, she held her wrists together and reached them toward the tree over his shoulder, then made a move as though she were kicking him around the fire. Then she wobbled in his arms and sank in a controlled motion back to the ground.
Erich looked down at her, trying to decipher her movements. “You lost your balance when you kicked me because you couldn’t reach around the fire.”
She nodded vigorously.
“Serves you right for kicking me awake,” Erich muttered, unable to pass up the opportunity for a good jest.
She didn’t seem to appreciate it; she spun around on the ground so her back was facing him and hugged her knees.
Erich dropped to one knee behind her. “I didn’t mean that. I was jesting.” He paused. He owed her nothing. But she had hurt herself attempting to help him. He could see from the color of the bruise that she was truly in pain. “I am grateful you woke me up. Let me look at your foot.”
She didn’t move.
Erich waited for a few moments, then stood and grabbed another chunk of dried meat from his pack. He circled around her and held out the food.
She reached up and accepted it, nibbling it as she huddled in place.
“Let me take a look at your foot,” Erich repeated. “Just to make sure no bones are broken.”
She slowly lifted her knee and stretched out her leg in front of her so that the hurt foot was visible.
