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[youknow_nothing]

Sleeping in a tent again didn't bother Ygritte. She'd been born in a tent, had slept in one all of her life. What bothered her was the lack of Mamet in her bed, sleeping alone after the months of being with him

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[canaan_divided]

Mamet doesn't pretend to understand most people, let alone himself, but he can't help but wonder if a small part of what he did was some perverse way of trying to push everyone away. But he misses Ygritte, and anyway, he's always been weak.

He finds her tent and sees the back of her head right away, like a piece of the sun right here in front of him. "Ygritte?" he says, and opens his mouth to say something else, but nothing really comes out.

[youknow_nothing]

She turned, and looked at him, eyes roving over him warily. Already she could tell he was sober in the way she had seen he wasn't days ago.

"Mamet," she said, a bit stiffly.

[canaan_divided]

Mamet's frown deepens and he looks at the ground, at Ygritte's hands instead of her face. "Um, I'm sorry," he tries.

[youknow_nothing]

Ygritte set the spear and the knife down, and stood, coming close to him. Her fingertips on the back of his head and her thumbs on his cheeks, she tipped his face up so she could see his eyes.

"What was all o'that about?"