Painter Classic. October 2002.

None of us felt secure so we decided to take turns keeping watch. It was well into my watch (which was shorter than it should have been because Tori woke me up late), when I heard a small noise that made me look over at Silver. He was sleeping in the corner next to where I was sitting, curled up under his windbreaker, which he had pulled up to his nose. It made him look almost child-like, which was a startling contrast to how he was awake. Nothing looked amiss, though, so I went back to trying to redo the lower half of my braid. The whole thing needed to be redone, but I was having enough trouble with the part I could see.

From Silver: Part 5