[It's enough. Kratos has dozed off and on, waking mostly when a shiver has been too much. He huddles in and closes his eyes more, and reminds himself that this is all most slaves get. And perhaps it's his due. He's unsure of how many betrayals he's just made; he doesn't know what he would do or how he would feel if he were in Yuan's place.

[He wakes again with a start at Yuan's voice, and for a moment thinks that he'd only dreamed it; but no, there's someone looming. With ash in his mouth and a dull heavy gut, Kratos rolls to kneel, as best as he can, and still not daring to lift his head. It is Yuan -- it's the same boots.

[His throat works, but no sound comes out. What words are there to say, after this? Yuan had told him to leave, and Kratos had left. If Yuan came after him before even morning, then surely he's rendering judgement.]