Still raining. Perhaps Miles had meant this as some form of punishment?

Julian blinked hard, trying to find Miles somewhere in the darkness. Finally, he spotted the blasted man, reclining against the grass like the rain wasn't pelting down hard enough to leave little aches wherever it hit.

"You might not be able to catch a cold from spending your days soaked to the skin, but it can't be comfortable," Julian said. Miles shrugged. He'd been understandably uncommunicative since Julian had arrived, and it was beginning to feel almost normal.

Universal and individual, grief was one of nature's nastier paradoxes.

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