Page 37 of The Unknown Birds

“Did you follow me, girl?” she crooned, kneeling down to pet the blue-eyed pup who thumped her tail in answer and licked her hand before leading the way back up the line.

The lads had mostly dispersed to their evening duties by the time Ash arrived back at the trench, and those who weren’t on duty were already snoring after the long day and longer night.

Rook was on watch at his sentry post, but he let his eyes drift off No Man’s Land to look her over quickly.

“All right?” he asked, satisfied she was whole, before turning his gaze back to the abyss. “Was it dysentery then?”

“Just a mild case. And apparently I’m anemic. Sorry to have worried you.”

“Wasn’t worried.” His voice was gruff and tight. “Except dysentery’s catching.”

She smiled at his stoicism, and he gestured towards the nearby dugout where TomTom was waiting. “That one saved you some grub, if you can stomach it.”

“If I can’t, he will. Good night, Rook,” she said.

“Night, Little Bird.”

“Better?” Tom asked cautiously when she slipped into the semi-protection of their tiny dugout. “You look better,” he said, studying her too intently.

She had thought the dog would go find Stewart now Ash was safely tucked up in her place, but instead Maxie flopped down beside them, laying her warm, comforting head on Ashley’s lap.

“Thank you,” she said, still stroking Max’s ears, when Tom pushed over a tin of cold beef stew along with half a chocolate bar.

“Go on. You need the iron because you’re⁠—”

“Anemic,” she interrupted. “I’m anemic.”

“Right. Because of that.”

She stared at him a moment, then skittered to her knees, grabbing Tom’s wrist and startling Max, who jumped up with a yip. They both froze, peering down the trench. When no one came to tell them off for having the dog with them, she whispered, “Did you follow me?”

“Course not,” he replied, and she slackened her grip just a bit. “How could I and still save you supper?” he whined.

“Then how? How’d you know I’m… anemic?”

“I have nine sisters, Ash. I’ve seen more than a fella’s share of anemic.”

Ashley glanced around once more, keenly aware of Rook’s guard post just a few meters away. “Does anyone else know? Does everyone know?”

TomTom shrugged. “Anyone else have nine sisters?” he asked, yanking his arm free and turning slightly away from her. “You could’ve told me,” he muttered, crossing his arms, feelings clearly hurt by her web of lies.

“Tom,” she whispered. “I couldn’t.”

“I would’ve helped you.”

“Not lectured me on all the ways this is no place for someone who’s anemic?”

“What would be the point?” he pouted. “It would only make you more determined.”

She grinned because that was certainly true. “Promise not to tell?” she asked, settling back down with Max on her lap once more. “Because if anyone finds out⁠—”

“I’d sooner rat out my own sisters. And they’d slit my throat while I was sleeping.”

And for some reason, that assurance was good enough for Ash. She stuck out her hand to make him swear it, and they shook on the deal before Ash wolfed down the chocolate bar and then started on the stew.

“Besides,” he grumbled, “just like my sisters, I’m fair certain if I took off running, you would catch me up in no time and beat me black and blue.”

“Don’t ever doubt it,” she warned him, chuckling at the image. “Do you really have nine of them? How does that even happen?”