If I were to leave my body behind for the night, I wouldn’t go far. I would hover; wrap her in company.

If the pain stayed with sinew, I would sing songs, full-bodied. I would float in them; fight to memorize. Maybe she would remember in the morning.

If the pain stayed with me, I would still fold close. I would look at her resting, learn what she looks like when no part is aching. I imagine she’d look like a lullaby, like a howling.

No need of sound from me.

I would watch over her quietly:
let her rest.

Prompt from: https://elisabethsharpmcketta.com/writing-prompt-generator/ + Making it a Rarasaur 100 with exactly 100 words, and using a 10 minute timer.