Crilgarin is watching the birds again. I know this because Grim is watching Crilgarin again. I know that because I'm watching Grim. I don't know if he knows how many days he's spent watching her walk among the ancient trees and shadows of Dalentarth's woods, but I know. I've been there every time, watching him crouch and stare at a woman counting birdsong.
I never held my heart as close as these moments. Breath stopped. Time seemed to be stilled. He might never know that I was here, that I watched him and I felt happier for it, and that makes me ashamed. Does Grim feel jealous of the birds that Crilgarin stalks the woods to find? From them, from her, from him, I've learned how to walk so no one notices. We each have a person we want to see us, more than anything else. But they don't look our way. To them, we are invisible.