Gio maintained his illusion of unconsciousness even as he felt the woman walk away from where he was previously hidden. He twitched occasionally, giving off the impression that the warmth the woman was giving him was bringing him back from the dead.
"Poor, poor child," the woman said. Her voice was sweet. Her every word dripped like honey. There was an emotion in her voice…something like love? However, it was a false motherly affection that seemed to drip with as much poison as it did honey.
From Gio's perspective, they moved for a period through the cold desert before a wave of heat enveloped him. A minute after the warmth touched his body, his body touched a soft bed that was comfortable enough to put him to sleep.
