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His unconsciousness might have been magically induced to protect him, but he had no way of knowing. He had a headache, regardless, and possibly a mild concussion.
He was briefly confused by her reaction and decided to clarify or try to, anyway.
“Nae, I thought ye would be here,” he said. “Fer just a moment, my... my father was here, too, but I dinna see him noo.”
Cam sat up enough to rest the weight of his upper body on his forearms, setting them level with the ground just behind his hips. “So, ye're here, but he isna here.” He could only hope his first words to her after the ritual made sense now.
He noticed the log under his ankles then and wondered if it was something you did when a person was unconscious. Cam did a quick mental flip through his internal First Aid Manual, but didn't notice it. Perhaps he should have paid more attention all those years ago rather than trying to get a piece of fresh grass, pressed between two fingers, to whistle when he blew against it. He recalled it had sounded more like a fart than a whistle.
Cam returned to the present and the drumming in his head when Juniper mentioned the Fae. He paused, forming his words carefully.
“They might hae been already,” he replied, still sounding like a six-pack-a-day smoker. “If they hae been, they may hae left something, to honour the... the bond the MacKinlays hae wit them.”
He was briefly confused by her reaction and decided to clarify or try to, anyway.
“Nae, I thought ye would be here,” he said. “Fer just a moment, my... my father was here, too, but I dinna see him noo.”
Cam sat up enough to rest the weight of his upper body on his forearms, setting them level with the ground just behind his hips. “So, ye're here, but he isna here.” He could only hope his first words to her after the ritual made sense now.
He noticed the log under his ankles then and wondered if it was something you did when a person was unconscious. Cam did a quick mental flip through his internal First Aid Manual, but didn't notice it. Perhaps he should have paid more attention all those years ago rather than trying to get a piece of fresh grass, pressed between two fingers, to whistle when he blew against it. He recalled it had sounded more like a fart than a whistle.
Cam returned to the present and the drumming in his head when Juniper mentioned the Fae. He paused, forming his words carefully.
“They might hae been already,” he replied, still sounding like a six-pack-a-day smoker. “If they hae been, they may hae left something, to honour the... the bond the MacKinlays hae wit them.”