[He listens pretty effortlessly to her; Sabriel's always been a pretty level-headed person, and if she says to do something when you're freaking out? Better to just do it. With slow, even breaths, he relaxes a fraction more.]

... It's a pain in the ass.

Waking up scared of something that's not even there anymore.

[Another slow breath out, and he closes his eyes, no doubt seeing something on the backs of his eyelids that is less than pleasant — and yet so difficult to kick out of his head.]

Some days, I feel like I'm a million bucks, and the next day it feels like they're still chiseling away at something in there, even after they're gone. I freaking hate it.