There was not much vacant space in Warreen's little willum, but it was quite big enough for two at a pinch. In the corner to which Mirran pointed there was nothing. But Warreen looked at him suspiciously, and grunted under his breath.
"I want that corner for my head," he said, at last. And he turned over and laid his head there.
Mirran looked rather surprised.
"Never mind; this place will do," he said, pointing to another corner.
"I want that place for my feet," Warreen said. And he moved over and laid his feet there.
Still Mirran could not understand that his friend meant to be so churlish.
"Well, this place will suit me famously," he said, pointing to where Warreen's feet had been.
But that did not please Warreen either.
"You can't have that place—I may want it later on," he said, with a snarl. And he turned and lay down between the fire and Mirran, and shut his eyes.
Then Mirran realized that Warreen did not mean him to have any warmth or shelter, and he lost his temper. He rushed outside into the wet darkness, and stumbled over a big stone. That was not a lucky stumble for Warreen, for all that Mirran wanted at the moment was a weapon.