Vs. Supersenses

	I decided to try to juggle a few more tasks while still tuning in to the flow and ebb of her blood. I would see if the distraction was too much.
	First, I gathered information. I triangulated the exact location of the birds I could hear, and then by their calls identified each one's genus and species. I analyzed the irregular splash that revealed life in the stream, and after equating the water displaced with the size of the fish, deduced the most likely variety. Categorized the nearby insects- unlike the more developed species, insects ignored my kind as they would a stone- by the speed of their wing movements and the elevation of their flight, or the tiny clicking sounds of their legs against the soil.
	As I continued to classify, I added calculation. If there were currently 4913 insects in the area of the meadow, which was roughly 11,035 square feet, how many insects on average would exist in the 1,400 square miles of the Olympic National Park? What if insect populations dropped 1 percent for each 10 feet of elevation? I brought up in my head a topographic map of the park and started computing the numbers.
	Concurrently, I thought through the songs I'd heard most rarely in my century of life- nothing common that I'd heard played more than once. Tunes I'd heard walking past the open door of a bar, peculiar family lullabies lisped by children in their cradles as I ran by in the night, discarded attempted by the music students writing their theatre projects in the buildings adjacent to my college classroom. I mouthed through the verses quickly, noting all the reasons each was doomed to failure.
	Her blood pulsed, her heat still warmed, and I still burned. But I could keep my hold on myself. My grip did not loosen. I was in control. Just enough.