He brushed her antennae. She released a cloud of golden dust which rose into his eyes, making him blink. They both chittered for several minutes and then fell silent, knowing the sun was now below the horizon.
Draven flexed his shoulders, seeking warmth from the stone. It was already beginning to cool and he knew they would both need to move soon. They'd be easy prey if they stayed here much longer, their joints becoming immobile and their attention dimming.
"We should find shelter", he said. "Night's almost here."
Emanelle raised herself up, her head outlined against the darkening sky. She clicked her mandibles, irritated by the necessity to stir themselves. She was already feeling drowsy, swearing like a hive-drone as she fought to move, her legs already beginning to fuse into rigidity. She weaved drunkenly, her coordination slow to return. It had been so close. A few minutes more and they'd have been lost to the cold. The oblivion that took everyone could take them both now if they lingered here much longer.