She shielded her eyes and slipped from the hole. Gavril crawled inside and turned around. Once he'd settled, Moria backed in and promptly bashed into him.
"Move back," she said.
"I can't. Just sit."
He tugged her down, and she landed in his lap.
"Not there," he said, his voice muffled as if he was talking through gritted teeth.
"Is there someplace else?"
He didn't answer. She was still uncomfortably close to the cave mouth, so she shifted to get farther in.
"Stop wiggling."
"My knees are sticking out. And I'm getting sand in my face."
"Then cover it. Just stop--" He drew in a ragged breath, as if she was crushing him. "Stop wiggling."
"I'm not that heavy. I just need to move--"
"I said, stop. Now." His breath was coming harder and she could feel the thump of his heart against her back.
"Do you have a fear of small places?" she said.
"No."
"It's nothing to be ashamed of. I know--"
"Yes, I have a fear of small places. Now stop--" He put his hands on her hips, as if to hold her still, then quickly pulled them back. "Stop moving. Please."
"Fine. There. Better?"
A moment's pause. "Not truly."
"And you call me difficult."
He made an odd noise, and she realized her hair was probably in his face, which may have explained his continued difficulty drawing breath. She leaned to the side, feeling him tense as she moved, then he relaxed as she swept her hair over and rested her head against his shoulder. He lifted his arms and seemed to be trying to figure out where to put them.
She grabbed his wrists and set his hands on her knees. "There. Now if the thunder hawk sees anything, it'll be your hands. You'll be taken again, and this time, I might not save you."
"I don't think the bird will get me out without taking you along."
"Oh, I'll find a way."
He began to relax, his hands resting on her knees, his body shifting slightly, getting comfortable, his chin moving to rest on her head. Then a sniff, as if he was about to sneeze, and he reached up to move a stray piece of her hair aside.
"I know," she said. "I ought to cut it off. It almost got me killed by that bird."
"You can't cut it off."
Keepers and Seekers were not permitted to do more than trim their hair to elbow length. Ashyn said they ought to be grateful they weren't like the spirit talkers, who weren't ever allowed to cut their hair or their nails. Personally, Moria would be more concerned with the "eyes plucked out, tongues cut off, and nostrils seared" part of being a spirit talker, but she could see that the uncut nails might be inconvenient as well.
Even when Moria and Ashyn trimmed their hair or their nails, it had to be done at the shrine, and the leavings immediately burned, the ashes scattered. Otherwise supposedly they could be used against the spirits--and the village--by sorcerers.
"I don't care what they say. As soon as we get out of here, I'm cutting my hair off."
"No, you're not," he murmured.