“So. Uh.” Thomas looked between Amanda and Evan, feeling … like he should be embarrassed, but couldn't be. They had had fun; they had enjoyed it. He … he had fun. He had enjoyed it. Thomas found that Amanda had a dumb kind of smile on her face, that kind of mirrored how he felt about it.

“Thank you. Both of you.” Amanda looked between them; Evan's uncertain express brightened somewhat, and a slow, maybe not quite firm, smile came to his face. “That's been … that was a fantasy of mine.”

“I don't think … no, that's not right. You're welcome.” Thomas nodded slowly, trying to work through his thoughts on the matter, and not getting much of anywhere at the moment. “I enjoyed it, even if, uh, well. Maybe next time?” He hesitated.

“Sure.” Amanda grinned at him. “We can start with you next time. Maybe I'll make Evan keep going.” Evan flushed furiously, looking away from both of them. Thomas continued to hesitate, trying to figure out how to frame something.

“I'd … actually, maybe, we can take things a little slower next time? I … ” How to explain that? But she just studied his face for a moment, then slowly nodded.

“We can take things a little slower. I didn't think boys … er … men … hm.” She frowned, looking between Evan and Thomas. “Doesn't it get frustrating? Knowing you're not supposed to say things certain ways, but not why?”

“ … Yes.” Evan replied, while Thomas was still trying to work out what she meant. “I wish I remembered home. I wish I remembered my – I wish … ” He trailed off, frowning. “There are all these … things. Like … sorry, Thomas. I don't even know why I have a thing about – why I want Amanda to be the one to tell me.” Well, that spelled it out. Thomas considered. The holes in his memory bothered him, when he noticed them – but by their nature, he didn't notice them unless he mentally stumbled across them.

“I know. I … feel like we shouldn't be doing any of this. Like it's wrong somehow to enjoy my fantasies.” Amanda looked between them. “But it was wonderful. I don't know why it would be wrong, only that I feel like it should be.” That, at least, Thomas could understand.

“I know what you mean. I think … I think maybe home had … ideas about sex.” Thomas paused, mulling over his words. “Last night didn't feel wrong, didn't feel like – ” He froze, then; he didn't want to bring her up, here, now. It wasn't even the same act; they didn't belong in the same conversation. “It didn't feel wrong. I think maybe those views weren't right.”

“I kind of hope I don't remember.” Evan spoke slowly. “I don't want to believe whatever I believed. I want to be better than that. I … want to be able to enjoy Thomas properly.” Amanda rose, while Thomas was still trying to figure out how to respond, and moved to join the others at the cooking pot for breakfast. Thomas looked at Evan, but the man wouldn't quite meet his gaze. Fair enough, he supposed, so he rose and followed Amanda.

The cooking pot was full a sort of manna bread gruel, although the water at least was fresh today, which helped offset the negative taste of manna, somewhat. Thomas looked around after filling his traveling cup, then moved to sit between Anne and Arias. Which he almost immediately regretted, as both women turned to look at him with nearly identical expressions.

“Not that I'm complaining for myself, but you three should maybe move a little further away from camp next time.” Anne turned back, speaking into her mug. It didn't quite conceal her smirk. Thomas' attention turned to Arias, who had a mirror expression of amusement, and maybe something else. He quickly looked back to his own cup, blowing into the steam of it. Had he hurt her feelings? Or was he just reading something that wasn't there?

He … still wasn't paying much attention to her. Thomas felt bad about this, but he'd been trying, and still failing. What else was there to do? How did you go about changing something like that in yourself, trying to make yourself pay attention, without paying attention in the first place, in order to recognize that you weren't paying attention? It felt like a slippery problem to deal with.

“We'll try to do better tonight.” Amanda's smile at Anne was unrepentant. Thomas, for his part, found he couldn't quite blush about that, but his own smile brightened a bit at the implication. Amanda's attention shifted to Evan, who nodded, cheeks reddening, and looked away. Thomas just nodded at her, for his part. Well, his dumb smile wouldn't go away, no matter how he tried, and that was probably answer enough. Anne, for her part, looked somewhere between pleased and amused.

“Good on you three. Enjoy your youth, you only go through things once.”

“Good on who?” Madelaine looked up, frowning first at Anne, then at Thomas, Amanda, and Evan, after watching who was watching who. “Oh. You three.” She scowled. “Arias wouldn't let me go slap you three, be quieter next time you do … all of that?” Her voice trailed off a little at the end, into a question, which even Norris didn't answer.

“So what's the plan?” John interrupted the somewhat and increasingly awkward silence, in which nobody wanted to look at the three.

“Breakfast, then we'll form back up. Everyone remember their places? I haven't caught the thread of an encounter yet.” Anne looked around, to nods and a couple of spoken replies. “Good. We can follow the river the rest of the way to Anchor. It'll be another few days of travel.” Anne paused for a second. “Then we may want to split up. We'll figure that out then, but be thinking about it.” She gave Thomas a meaningful look, which he wasn't certain what to do with; he looked at Amanda and Evan, who were sitting together, and not paying him much attention at the moment. He was … well, would he want to stay with them? Given their experience in the cave, they probably wouldn't be leaving the city again, once they arrived. He … didn't want that. But it had been fun.

It was something to consider. Later.

They began traveling again, falling once more into their formation from the morning before; Anne looked troubled, as they continued their trek back. Thomas was in good spirits, however; he had enjoyed the previous night, in ways he had never expected to. Sex had been something dark and secretive, and then something embarrassing, and then something painful, and then he'd just tried not to think about it at all.

But that had been … pleasant. Not in the way he'd thought sex would be pleasant, either. He'd enjoyed making someone else feel good, was the thought he kept coming back to. Sex had turned on its head; from something you did to somebody, to something you did for them. And suddenly, sex as something you did with somebody sounded … amazing. To, for, with; he wouldn't have even recognized that these were radically different ways of looking at the same act, until he'd experienced it.

It made him regret the experience with Cenpre all the more, because it had been something he had wanted to do with her; but he also hadn't actually been ready to have something like that. Lust, for the sake of lust, was something he couldn't have accepted then. And now he wanted to throw himself into the experience; lust for lust, rather than love, as something pure and wholesome and wonderful in its own right.

It was strange, to think of last night as something innocent and pure – but that was what it had been. Innocent; to be free of guilt, and regret, and shame. Thomas struggled to even understand his own previous perspective on the matter, struggled to see the experience as depraved, unclean, wrong. How could it be? It was giving freely of oneself, being oneself. The depraved thing was the way he had seen such acts.

They ate lunch on the move, eating manna bread created from tokens. His thoughts gave way to the rhythm of travel, the feeling of the grass underfoot, the rise and fall of the slopes as they walked alongside the water. The sun was warm overhead, the sky dotted with puffy clouds, and there was a slight cooling breeze; it was a beautiful day.

The sun was about halfway down the horizon when Thomas heard a whistle. He looked up and over, but there was nothing – except Arias appeared over the crest of the hill a few seconds later, sprinting at a speed that would seem impossible, save that she was clearly doing it. She spun as she leapt the last few feet to join their group, her shortbow coming up, an arrow already knocked; Anne cursed, and quickly prepared her own longbow.

On the crest of the hill Arias had descended, shadows appeared. One, two, ten, many. They kept growing taller, and Thomas at first was wondering at what kind of horrible beast this was, until the shapes resolved themselves, going from confusing nothings to riders on horseback in a single flash of recognition. Oh. Oh.