"Gotta stop takin' a nap on the job, lad!"
"Thank you.." He said deflated. Even though he knew Ttharg didn't mean to, the words stung a little. Fork felt he was supposed to be better than this. There was something gnawing at his soul and it made him feel restless and uneasy. He also felt quite sick, in the physical sense. His insides needed time to rearrange themselves again.

The first week he tried pretending nothing was wrong and pushed the training onwards. The fight with the crab and its subsequent spoils had invigorated the marines, and they had witnessed first-hand the fruit of their labour. After the week though, Fork handed the training regime over to the squad leader, and things settled into a bit of a more routinised schedule.

The restlessness hadn't gone away.

He found himself wandering, and distancing one evening when he came upon Cauda. They never really had spoken but as Fork was gazing up at the sky Cauda made an off-beat remark which made something click for him. He asked about the three stars he'd seen. Not just twice when he'd fallen in battle but also in a dream not long before that. He asked about the stars and the vast frozen wasteland, the kill and the wind that blew but never refreshed.

They settled into a conversation that lasted for weeks on end. They'd stop when it was time to work, and pick it up like no time had passed. This took practice on Forks end, since Cauda wasn't the easiest to follow, but he managed. They compared, riffed, discussed and listened as they connected dots that hadn't been obvious. It was exactly the outlet Fork needed and he was grateful. It also grew his awareness and managed to keep him stable and grounded when he was feeling like he was losing his place in the only world he knew how to be anything.