Pell and Flick from Wraeththu

Then the warmth of another body, a living thing, dream whispers in my hair. No language I had ever heard. Flick, an unlikely comforter, crooning reassurance.

"Come on, come on, get it all out," he urged, as if I was being sick. Through my tears, I managed a bleak laugh. It was the first time in my life, however, that I had wept and not felt ashamed. Flick asked me what the matter was.

"Scared," I bleated, and all my fears tumbled out, mostly incromprehensible, even to myself.

Wraeththu, Enchantments of Flesh and Spirit (Chapter 1) by Storm Constantine