Caerwyn noticed the moment her breathing changed.
It was slight. Barely more than a hitch at the top of an inhale, a subtle irregularity in a rhythm he had been monitoring for hours.
He had counted her breaths without meaning to. He had adjusted his posture around the rise and fall of her chest until the motion had become background information.
Then all of a sudden, it wasn't.
Her chest rose deeper. Her shoulders engaged. A faint tension ran through the muscles beneath his forearm, not enough to move her, but enough to register.
She was coming back.
His grip adjusted automatically, not tightening yet, but rather supporting her weight as her body began to participate again instead of remaining passive. His stance widened by a fraction, his knees flexing, and his balance recalibrating without conscious instruction.
Sera inhaled sharply.
The sound cut through everything else.
