[The thought comes that when the moment ends, and she can feel it ebb, Celehar won't like that Need's gotten so familiar. He doesn't like being touched, and he's not one of hers. Isn't he afraid of her on some levels? He hasn't actually flinched away at any point, she would have noticed. But after all, Darkwind had accepted her presence - no, welcomed it, had trusted her immediately and leaned into her embrace - and Celehar wasn't expecting the emotional contagion. When it fades, he'll feel... what will he feel? He won't outright recoil, she thinks, but otherwise...

Nothing like that had occurred to her before she took it on herself to try to comfort him. She'd just... seen that intensification of the pain he carries and acted without thought. She can't just do that. She doesn't just do that. What's happening to her?

At some point Need's shifted to sit at his side, close enough so that when she settles her arm back down, her hand in her lap, the wet wool of her tunic sleeve is no more than an inch from the wet silk of the sleeve of his coat. She can still feel a warmth in her palm and the underside of her arm. It was good to touch someone.]

I probably shouldn't compare. There's a lot I don't know, and I don't mean to brush that aside. Sometimes I'm presumptive, and I forget myself.