No Longer Safety [Ka'rys]

[kysseh]

Calm down, SavitriLoveMine. Calm down and breathe. You are all right.

Savitri was only minimally conscious of her surroundings. Ka’rys dragging her out of the infirmary and into the water had rudely shocked her system, and the goldrider had floundered in the water for several moments, struggling to get to the surface to breathe. The world had started to narrow in her vision when a powerful force had shoved her right back up into the air. She remembered grasping at the dark neck beneath both herself and Rys, using her other hand to cling tightly to the wounded bronzerider. The situation had seemed quite bewildering until the creature ferrying herself and Ka’rys to the shore had offered forth an explanation.

Do not struggle, Ciceroth’s and Hepaticath’s. I am taking you to the bossy little-queen. Tanith had ever-so-bluntly informed them, twisting her head around to look better at the pair of riders draped across the base of her neck. As soon as Savitri had capitulated to Hepaticath’s force, the queen had sent Tanith to retrieve Hers from the infirmary. The green had wisely slipped into the water to retrieve both floundering bodies and then hopped her clumsy way back to Hepaticath’s weyr, gracelessly depositing her burden next to the queen’s couch.

Now Hepaticath was insistently nuzzling at Savitri, and the goldrider was groaning and coughing weakly in order to clear her lungs. The combination of smoke and water was making it hard to breathe, and she was alternately gasping for air and spitting up gritty water. Her head hurt, and the world refused to remain level, though her vision was starting to clear as oxygen returned to her system. Hepaticath’s affection was probably not helping, and she swatted ineffectually at the gold nose, gratified when the shining muzzle simply hovered over her and Rys and emitted croons of concern. Check on Ciceroth’s. the queen was urging, and that forced Savitri’s mental faculties back into some semblance of working order. Concern for others was hardwired into the goldrider.

“Rys!” she exclaimed hoarsely, wavering as she pushed herself up to her knees and anxiously shook the bronzerider. Her hands drifted over his body, feeling for signs of life, for broken bones and more injuries. She ignored the fact that she was shivering from a combination of shock and cold, instead anxiously stroking the bronzerider’s face. “Rys, you’d better be alive, shardit. Rys? Ka’rys, please!” It wasn’t like Savitri to beg, and though she knew there were others who needed her, Ka’rys was her only priority for the moment. Well, there was one other priority that came before him, but said priority was safe in her womb. She was suddenly concerned that harm had come to the infant, and the young woman was very still, dripping water all over the floor next to Hepaticath’s couch.

She hated Benden.

[glamourie]

Had he lost consciousness?

It was hard to say, really. Ka’rys’s awareness completely blacked out momentarily - drowned by pain and worry. As soon as he hit the water, everything around him went dim. He was vaguely aware of being pulled onto something - something pulling him out of the icy water, and the heat of flames nearby, but most of his mind was going black from pain, the pain he’d been ignoring to walk around on a broken leg, and use a broken arm to fight. But physical pain was only half of it. They were out of the infirmary, and worry washed over everything that remained. Worry. Z’hin was dead. He’d seen his body burning. Z’hin. How was he going to explain that to Kalerary? And Kalerary was hurt, so badly hurt. Liette died protecting her and for what? Kalerary was bleeding, bloody, he’d seen her face covered in her own blood and the very idea made him feel like vomiting. The problem was, there wasn’t anything left inside to vomit up, he hadn’t eaten in days it felt like… or maybe it had only been hours? He couldn’t say. How long they were in the infirmary was a mystery. It felt like too long, to his heart thudding in his chest. Much, much too long. Too much death.

Rysmine. Rysmine, Behruth’s has the hatchling. Behruth’s has the hatchling, Rysmine, we can go to her.

Kale… was with M’ta? Barely aware, Ka’rys groaned, and choked. He gagged, spitting up water and ashes down his soaked front. His wet hair did little to hide the tears that actually formed in his eyes and as he was touched, he jolted and opened his eyes. Blinking twice, rapidly, he jerked himself into a sitting position and shivered, his gaze flicking about in alarm. Touch? Touch. Gold? Hepaticath - Savitri - but Kalerary, Kalerary. His good hand came up to rest on his face, and it took all of his effort not to fall into a fit of hysterical sobs. Even Ciceroth’s mental reassurance did little to calm him. The image Liette showed him before her death was of Kalerary being … being hurt. No parent liked to imagine their child suffering but he knew for a fact that his was, and the feeling of failure, fear and protectiveness was coupled with an intense sorrow. His baby was hurting and he couldn’t do anything about it.

The initial panic attack lasted only about twenty seconds, but for someone usually as closed off as Ka’rys was, that twenty seconds seemed like a lifetime. He shuddered visibly and turned to look at Savitri before attempting a weak smile - hard to do when he truly was on the verge of tears, but to expect anything else would have been ridiculous. It wasn’t pain (although there was that). He was simply very, very upset. Enough that he’d stabbed someone in the back of the neck - not a good place to embed a weapon to be sure; there were better, more vital areas to hit. More efficient.

“I’m alive,” he admitted, almost wishing that he wasn’t. Was that horrible? He knew instantly that it was - not from him, but from Ciceroth. The bronze came to land gracefully at the end of the weyr, having passed off his passengers. Ka’rys shot Ciceroth a look, and the bronze flipped his tail mildly. Of course he wanted RysHis alive. What did he expect? The bronze rider reached over to pat Hepaticath’s nose before trying to push himself up to stand. That one movement made him want to scream in pain from his broken arm (which he’d undoubtedly made worse), and he did inhale sharply through his teeth with a quiet hissing noise. “I - are you okay?” He needed to get to Kalerary, but just up and leaving Savitri alone didn’t seem like an option. What was he supposed to do? So many conflicting feelings. If he’d been capable, yes, he would’ve thrown up. As it was, he wiped at his face to prevent himself from having a very visible breakdown (not brought on by Savitri). It felt like there was a small hole inside of him that only Liette could fill, and that hole was growing more pronounced by Kalerary’s injuries. His fire lizard. She’d died trying to save his little girl… to no avail. He couldn’t even keep his sharding flit safe!

Rysmine, Checkoth’s is with her now. Checkoth says that His will see to it that she is treated properly, no matter what. You are hurt, Rysmine. You can’t go anywhere. Please don’t -- not until everything is safe. Please…

[kysseh]

The fact that he was spitting up water was a positive sign, but Savitri was unwilling to leave it at that. Even dazed as she was, the young woman was anxiously scrutinizing his face. Tears? Were those tears? Pain? She didn’t know, and it both distressed and comforted her when he moved into an upright position. Something was awry, and her hands shakily stroked his jaw, trying to reassure both herself and him that all was well. Actually, all was not well, but Savitri was content to cling to little miracles for the moment. Their survival was a miracle, for one thing. Theirs. All… five of them.

The weak smile he gave her had her leaning forward to press her cold lips to his forehead. Shards but what she wouldn’t do to have her brave, calm Rys back. “I can see that you’re alive,” she murmured quietly, trying to not let her teeth chatter too much. Unfortunately, Hepaticath was wise to her, and a gold neck twined around both dragonriders. The massive dragon’s hide was ever so warm, and Savitri pressed her back against it. Warmth. “Don’t… don’t!” she protested as he tried to stand, immediately reaching for the injured arm. “I’m… I’m fine. Cold, wet, and… I’m fine,” she managed, running experienced hands along his arm to check for the source of the pain. Her own eyes were shedding tears, but she scarcely noticed them save for when they blurred her vision. The image of the still-living patients trapped in the explosion…

She gave her head a violent shake to try to clear it, squeezing her eyes shut as if that would help. After a brief moment, her pale eyes opened again, fixated on his face. “Rys…” Words failed her, and the goldrider simply bowed her head. She could barely even think properly, even with Hepaticath’s calming presence pressed against her mind and body. The gold crooned softly at both riders and then flicked a wing, her anxious yellow-orange gaze fixating on the bronze. Ciceroth. Are you hurt? she asked very quietly, nosing at Savitri when the goldrider’s tears distracted her.

“I thought we were all going to die,” the woman whispered very quietly, trying to contain herself. A deep breath only yielded another fit of coughing, and Savitri had to turn aside to avoid spitting water all over the bronzerider. Her legs tucked in to her body, she dropped from sitting on her heels to flat on the ground. Shards, but she wanted to just collapse. “Kalerary? Where is she? Is she hiding? I can… I can send someone for her.” Having Kalerary would calm him, wouldn’t it? And calming Ka’rys would calm Savitri by proxy, even though she still had yet to tell him about the impending arrival. Faranth, but the timing was horrible.

[glamourie]

Scratched, Ciceroth admitted, flicking his tail as he perched at the weyrledge edge. Baith has gone. Morsrath is gone with His. They are both gone. That statement was shared with both Ka’rys and Hepaticath. The others are ordered away; it is safe… To Hepaticath privately, the bronze added, Rath is gone. Jarcith is gone. Kindrith is gone. Jessereth is gone. Many others, but they who I knew best. Ka’rys is very upset. His hatchling is badly hurt. Trilyanth’s and his hurt her. The little cousin who liked the shinies is also gone. Were his words severe? A little. He wasn’t upset with Hepaticath, but in general, and for an understandable reason. RysHis was very, very upset. The bronze made a low whining noise in his throat before slinking into the weyr as much as he could fit - which was a considerable amount. Once he was close enough, he leaned his head over to literally lay against Ka’rys, putting most of his head in the bronze rider’s lap. There was a definite sadness in his gaze. So many lives lost. The rain had washed away the ichor from the green he’d killed, but Ciceroth wasn’t happy. He did what was necessary, as he was taught, but he wasn’t happy at all. Rysmine, Rysmine… please calm down… the hatchling, she’s safe, Rysmine, and there was nothing you could do…

Hepaticath’s proximity actually did little to comfort Ka’rys, aside from the physical. He reached one hand up to gently rub her neck, but that was all - namely because Ciceroth was quite possessively butting him at that exact moment. Shock, it was; not the physical kind but mental, as though awareness was finally flooding back. He felt as if he was awaking from a very long sleep, one he hadn’t gone into willingly, and the bronze rider wound his arms not around Savitri, but his dragon. It wasn’t personal. He was just… exceedingly upset, being made more so by every little sound, every keen, the smell of fire, the hurt in his chest and the very real knowledge that he’d failed. Kalerary was the only responsibility he had in life - he owed it to her to protect her and he’d failed. She’d hate him forever. And Z’hin was gone. How was he supposed to explain that to her? He’d failed to protect her and Z’hin.

“She’s with R’wign,” Ka’rys said as his arms tightened around Ciceroth. “Bleeding. I - I don’t know what happened, but she’s hurt.” There was a definite note of upset in those words that made his guilt painfully obvious. “Z’hin and Wynmuri are gone, too. My wing riders. Z’hin -- Kale’s going to kill me. She’s going to kill me.” He felt almost like a child, and it made him angry thinking that, but what was he supposed to do? Hold it all in? Yeah, right; he felt like he could explode at any minute. “E’rro made it out -- E’rro… Aliscia made it out, Tanith got us -- I don’t know who else made it. I don’t know - my daughter, my wing. R’wign with her… so is M’ta, I think; Behruth told Ciceroth that they had her.” Why did it not help? Why did he feel like he could throw up at any minute? Nothing helped - nothing.

Logic. Logic was good. Logic would help. Ka’rys took a deep breath to avoid falling into hysterics, which resulted in him choking and gagging for another minute and a half. Once the fit passed, he looked to Savitri and Hepaticath both before weakly suggesting, “Someone should check on Kaegan. She’d have been a target too. Someone needs to make sure she’s alive. Can - Hepaticath -” It seemed better if Hepaticath asked; that would let Millieth know (if she was still alive) that Savitri was alive, too. “Ciceroth needs to contact Gareth and find out whether K’roi made it. I saw N’tia in the infirmary.” Did it really just explode? Explosion. Infirmary. Boom. His mind reeled a little. “We need to find out where triage is set up and start trying to - to ferry people there as best we can. You should get there --- you’re a healer, you can save lives… and they’re going to need everyone they can find.”

Blink. Blink.

That made him lift one hand to his head, and very slowly, Ka’rys removed an unconscious bronze salamandyr. Probably from smoke inhalation. Odds were, the green was somewhere in his clothes, too. He didn’t feel like stripping to find out. “I need to find Kalierre and return something of hers as well.” He peered down at Lust’s unconscious form and cocked his head to the side. Still breathing. He’d hand the mandyr off to one of the dragon healers to check out. He’d honestly forgotten he was there. “I hope I didn’t kill him throwing us off the ledge that way… there was a green with him, too. A green… his mate I think… Sel’n would know…”

[kysseh]

Both Hepaticath and Savitri watched in silence as the bronze came closer and put his head in His’ lap. The gold quietly passed on to Savitri what the bronze had said, and the goldrider pressed the back of her hand against her mouth to stifle the sob that threatened to escape. Kalerary was hurt?! If Ka’rys hadn’t said that she was in R’wign’s hands, she would have immediately gotten up to tend to her. As it was, she merely wept in silence, lifting a hand to scratch her mindmate’s eyeridges in place of curling up in Rys’s arms. The bronzerider did not seem to want her comfort, and she could scarcely blame him. Ciceroth was probably a far better source than her.

“She couldn’t be in better hands,” Savitri said softly. “R’wign will take care of her.” At Ka’rys’s suggestions, the goldrider glanced toward the inner part of her weyr. Aliscia was there… with the twins. The greenrider was injured but not interrupting, and Hepaticath added that Tanith said that the older woman was giving the two ranking riders some peace. That boosted Savitri’s mood just a bit, knowing that Aliscia was nearly in one piece. She glanced at the salamandyr in Ka’rys’s hand and very carefully took it from him, resting it on the palm of her hand and lightly massaging the little creature’s back in the hope of stimulating it to cough up any water in its respiratory system.

Hepaticath’s eyes suddenly whirled red, and Savitri was startled by the growl that the gold emitted. Both dragon and rider were silent for a moment, and then Savitri violently shook her head and pressed back against the gold’s warm neck for comfort. “N’tia and Kirayuth are dead,” she said flatly. “Kaegan’s alive. Shadow is looking around for others, but… I think… the weyrling barracks. Weyrlings gone. And some others… Kindrith, Cyanth, I think.” P’nor. The bronzerider who had approached her that first night at the hatching feast. Savitri’s eyes filled with tears again, and she looked longingly at the bronzerider, wishing she could simply hide by him. Evicting Ciceroth was unwise, though, and Savitri tried to focus on the little creature in her hand.

“There aren’t many healers left. Hepaticath says… Dohulth and K’von are tending to Kalierre. They brutalized her.” Savitri choked, though it was more from the inclination to vomit than anything. “S’lain and I… we can set up a triage somewhere. Shmee’s weyr is empty. Stone can’t burn, and… I have some supplies here, in my weyr. Not enough to last for sevendays, but it’ll be sufficient for now. I can… send word to Southern for help. My former Master would help.”

Hepaticath’s tail was lashing back and forth in agitation, and Savitri was surprised by the efficiency with which the gold was communicating with her brethren… and with Shadow. She often underestimated the gold’s intelligence, but now… now she was grateful for it. Hepaticath was far calmer, and Savitri fervently wished she could emulate the gold. “I’m sorry… I… I need… I can’t think. I just can’t think. ,” she admitted hesitantly, still carefully cradling the bronze salamandyr as she edged closer to Ka’rys. Begging for crumbs, she was. She just wanted to touch him a little and leaned in to shakily kiss his cheek, her free hand curling around her abdomen in an unconscious protective instinct. “We need to get dry before you get sick…”

[glamourie]

The problem with reassurances was that they only worked when they could be proven. The truth was, Ka’rys did trust R’wign to take care of Kalerary… but that did not diminish the feeling of failure that threatened to totally overwhelm him. He’d failed her, the only person on Pern that was dependent on him. That feeling was enough to make him feel lousy. No amount of gentle embraces and soothing words could take away that feeling - there was no easy fix for it. Not even Ciceroth’s attempts at comfort swayed him. Simply put, he was distressed. Each passing second calmed him but only slightly. Savitri’s words, her explanations, didn’t make him feel any better though. The bronze rider reached one hand down to stroke Ciceroth’s eye ridges, and in a remarkable show of spoiled silliness, the dragon snorted and sprawled out awkwardly. Not much room for him to do so considering that the place was occupied, but that didn’t stop him from trying, and were he a feline, he probably would’ve been belly-up, rolling around on the floor mewling. The croon that escaped him was close enough. He very obviously liked the attention his bonded was lavishing on him.

They are gone, but we are not. SavitriCath’s and Hepaticath are not. Neither is the Healer and Checkoth, and the hatchling will be okay. You should be happy, Rysmine. Selenitas is safe now.

Bowing his head, Ka’rys shot his dragon a glare. “Safety doesn’t change the amount of lives lost, Ciss.” It was half-scolding, but his heart wasn’t in it; of course Ciceroth prioritized his safety over that of anyone else’s. That he made it out relatively unscathed, and those most important to him were alive was enough for the dragon. Ciceroth mourned, in his own way, but the relief he felt at Ka’rys being alive and safe was more important to him. Very simple was a dragon’s logic: His was safe, the immediate danger was passed, and both of the queens were safe. What else was there to fuss over? The rest, he couldn’t change, couldn’t fix, and there was no sense dwelling on something that was beyond his control. Ka’rys was normally very rational, but some things were beyond even his control. Kalerary being hurt was enough to chase away most of his logic, in a fit of self-loathing that simply couldn’t be fixed.

“Is anyone with Kaegan?” Ka’rys asked, as Ciceroth lifted his head and nudged him gently. Then the bronze moved over and flopped against Hepaticath, his gaze falling on his flank. There was a small cut, claw marks, and Ka’rys glanced at him worriedly; it wasn’t that bad, but he didn’t want anyone hurt anymore, least of all his mindmate. “Someone needs to get to her. You need to find out where S’lain is -- set up a triage. I’ll help. I’m sure R’wign has supplies, too, and Kalierre probably has some.” He didn’t let his mind dwell on what happened to the dragon healer. She was neither his friend nor his responsibility and he had enough upset to worry about without focusing on her. There were people in her life who would take care of her, who would worry for her, and spend their time trying to see to it she was well-taken care of. He had other people depending on him. And salamandyrs. “Is Lust going to be all right? I doubt Kalierre would thank me for drowning her salamandyr.”

Running one hand through his hair, Ka’rys flinched. Then blinked, tilted his head, and untangled a small green salamandyr. So there she was. Squinting, he laid her down in his palm and gently massaged her in a mimicry of what Savitri was doing for Lust; he didn’t know if it would help, but she seemed to be breathing. Probably just a little distressed, but -- “Maybe we should have one of the dragon healer apprentices look them over. They probably inhaled a lot of smoke.” He meant the salamandyrs, of course. “You can send for your former Master if you think it would do any good -- er. Well. No, you should ask Kaegan and K’roi that --” He really needed to stop bossing people around and acting as though he had any authority. “I’m sure they won’t object, though… we’re going to need as much help as we can get.” Selenitas was in shambles, after all. Odds were, there were more dead than living. That thought was hardly comforting, but the cold rationality of it helped to jolt his mind back into working. He needed to focus on what was important: saving what lives they could. The number was far smaller than he liked, but then, Ka’rys didn’t like seeing anyone die.

As she edged closer, Ka’rys leaned his head against hers. He shivered again, then raised an eyebrow before smiling; it was a very weak expression, but genuine nonetheless. “You’re soaked, too, ‘vi. You should change, then I will, but… are you hurt?” His gaze flicked up and over to the other end of the weyr at that thought, and he asked without thinking, “Are the babies okay, Aliscia?” They were probably shaken up, but… hopefully no worse for the wear. Hopefully…

[kysseh]

Even exhausted and somewhat ill as she felt, Savitri could not help but laugh softly at the bronze dragon as Ciceroth practically basked in his rider’s attention. She was not laughing at the bronze, specifically, but at his antics, and even Hepaticath had to echo with a rumble of amusement, despite the queen’s distraction with the goings-on outside of her weyr. Ka’rys’s attempt at scolding the bronze did little to ruin Savitri’s mood. She was too busy being grateful that they were all alive. Somewhere in her heart, there was an aching emptiness. Dear. Dear had betweened at the first inhale of smoke, her frail lungs unable to take the strain. As much as it hurt, though, the overwhelming presence of Hepaticath and the concerns for her child were overriding the loss of her flitter. She would grieve for her beloved pet later, sometime after she was sure that the weyr would eventually regain some stability.

Hepaticath was singularly grateful when Ciceroth chose to flop himself down against her, finally settling down on her couch after quite awhile poised and ready to spring at the slightest need. Of course, as soon as the bronze rested himself down and Hepaticath had the opportunity to rub her neck against his, she saw it. Wounds. Wounds on her Ciceroth, and the queen gave a decidedly angry huff. I will have Mine clean them for you once she stops feeling so ill. the gold promised her playmate.

Ignoring Hepaticath, Savitri moved the unconscious bronze salamandyr to brace his head between her fingers, angling her hand downward and tickling at the little creature’s back in an attempt to stimulate him to couch up the water and grit in his lungs. A few drops seemed to be trickling out, which cheered her immensely. Perhaps the little beast would live after all. “He’ll be fine. She should be too,” the young woman said simply, gesturing with her chin at the green in Ka’rys’s palm. “You should be gentle on that arm. As soon as the world stops… moving, I’m drying you off, fixing your injuries, and putting you to bed. You’re very little good to anyone with a bad arm,” she added without an ounce of tact, though her attempt at sternness was undermined by the fact that she was leaning against his shoulder. “Millieth is guarding Kaegan. I’m sure K’roi will look for her.” Why wouldn’t he? That was his job. “One of the apprentices can look at these two later. If we can get them breathing a little easier and put them somewhere warm for now, they’ll be fine until then.”

“The babes are fine. Wet and frightened, but I bundled them up in towels. I raided your cabinets.” The last, unapologetic statement was aimed toward Savitri as Aliscia carefully limped her way over to the pair from the other half of the weyr. The greenrider was still wearing her charred shirt, but Savitri caught a glimpse of white bandages beneath. Good. Aliscia had found her stockpiles. “Here,” the greenrider rasped, inelegantly dumping the towels in Savitri’s lap. The older woman lightly flicked Savitri on the head and pinned her with a look. “Tanith told me.” Ignoring Savitri’s expression of utter surprise, tainted by anxiety, the greenrider turned and limped her way back to the babes. “Better make it quick, kiddo.”

Savitri tried not to panic at the thought and instead fixated on the towels in her lap. She should dry herself off… her and Rys. It could wait; Lust needed to breathe properly first. “I… err.” His question needed answering, and her nerve was failing her, much to her embarrassment. She carefully pressed closer to him, only belatedly noticing that her heavy healer’s bag, soaked through with water as it was, was still strapped across her chest. Her free hand practically threw the strap off herself. “I’m… tired. My stomach feels off, and my throat hurts. I’m hungry.” That sounded more than a little childish, she knew. “I… about… I think… never mind.” Her nerve was failing her. “I’m trying… to not think about how many of my friends… are dead.” That was the truth, at least, if not all of it.

[glamourie]

Tilting his head, Ciceroth crooned softly. The scratches weren’t severe enough to bother him. Truthfully, the bronze was much more resilient: He’d dealt with far worse injuries in the past and, given that everyone he cared about was alive and well, he honestly didn’t mind scratches. They were oozing, but the pain was minimal. They do not hurt, he reassured simply, nuzzling Hepaticath’s side. Rysmine was very scared for Yours, and for the hatchling. Pausing, the bronze lowered his head, eyes whirling affectionately. He became angry with the others there for upsetting her. They all kept repeating themselves. Rysmine was very angry. Actually, His simply disliked anything he deemed illogical; wasting time repeating the same sentence over and over qualified as illogical in his opinion. Hnn. The bronze wiggled, making himself more comfortable, then huffed. He wanted to rest. To sleep. Thoughts of all that had happened plagued his mind. Like Ka’rys, he was bothered - but for another reason. Ever logical, Ciceroth wanted to know why Baith had rescinded the attack. Surely she realized they could have won without that Man. It was worrisome, and Ciceroth did not trust anything he didn’t understand. Neither did His, but Ka’rysHis was distracted by Savitri and therefore not thinking about it very much. Ciceroth was.

Ka’rys’s gaze lingered on the salamandyr in his grasp, and he mimicked Savitri’s movements until she coughed up some of the gritty water she’d taken in. He glanced up at the gold rider and crinkled his nose slightly before shaking his head. “I’m fine. Arm hurts, yes, but so does the leg, and I’m not going to do anything until I know that a triage has been set up, people are being taken care of, and Benden isn’t coming back.” Actually, he’d probably collapse in exhaustion as soon as he found Kalerary, a fact Ka’rys was quite well aware of but couldn’t bring himself to care too much about. He didn’t want to be fussed over. He’d be fine. “Broken bones heal. There are surely people with worse injuries. We should go over to Shmee’s old weyr and start setting up triage, and let people know where it is. It’s ground level, so most people can probably get inside easily.” His hand came up to his nose and he rubbed it weakly before looking at Savitri. He hoped she wouldn’t fight him. Truth was, he was still so strung up he couldn’t sleep. Not until the rush wore off.

The almost disregard for Kaegan’s safety that Savitri offered alarmed him. Or maybe he was more worried because he had a feeling he knew what happened to Benden traitors; not much better than what happened to Fort ones, no doubt. Still, she had a point -- K’roi was Weyrleader, it was his job, but… He’d have felt better if he knew where she was, and that she was protected. Selenitas had already lost one Weyrwoman. They didn’t need to lose another… Who knew what had happened to her? The idea of just - just ignoring her selfishly bothered him. Or maybe he was more bothered by the fact that he just felt worthless. Something needed to be done. Something. He needed to be doing something more worthwhile than placating Sel’n’s salamandyr. Not that he was much good to anyone…

I will talk to Millieth, Ciceroth privately told his rider. I will ask her if Hers is all right, and whether or not she has help. If she doesn’t, I will make sure Gareth knows where she is and that help gets to her. Stop fussing. Millieth will take care of Hers. You need to take care of yourself. Pausing, the bronze then added, I will also tell Kaaoloth to make sure His knows that his salamandyr is with us, and that she is alive. He will appreciate knowing that, I expect. Now fuss less, and worry more about your health. Two lids of eyes fell closed and Ciceroth squirmed against Hepaticath until his whole body on that side was pressed against the larger female. Comforting, her presence was; he welcomed it.

It took all of Ka’rys’s effort not to glare at Ciceroth. He managed it, though, because Savitri and Aliscia both distracted him. He glanced up at the greenrider as she approached and nodded slightly; he was glad her kids were alright. Was it rude he didn’t ask after her? Perhaps, but consideration was not one of his strong points and surely she was used to that, after riding on his wing for so long. Three Weyrleaders, thus far… although, it was probably going to change. Probably. He sighed, then quirked an eyebrow inquisitively at the last statement. What…? His nose crinkled up and he looked at Savitri, baffled. Did she have any idea what Aliscia was babbling about? Evidently she did, from the almost embarrassed stammering. What --? Probably something inappropriate; he decided he’d rather not know. Instead, he picked up one of the towels that Aliscia had dumped and he wrapped it carefully around little Vanity to keep her warm. Then he set the towel aside, snatched another and leaned over to towel-dry Savitri’s hair.

“Think about how many are alive. Not the dead. The living appreciate your concern a lot more,” he said, wincing; that arm hurt so badly. “M’ta is alive. Kalierre is alive. Aliscia is alive. I don’t know who else is your friend…”

[kysseh]

SavitriMine was worried for RysYours too. She was frightened. She is still frightened. the young queen responded to her playmate’s honest, draping her gleaming neck over his in an obvious gesture of affection. The queen was grateful for Ciceroth’s safety, as well as for the safety of His and the hatchling. Were she not halfway distracted with learning the status of most of the weyr’s inhabitants, she would have been more vocal about that fact. SavitriMine is frightened for their hatchling. the gold added, her tones indicating her distraction with the goings-on outside of her weyr. As he pressed more firmly against her, she rubbed the side of her head against his neck and shoulder. Her Ciceroth. Her bronze. Hers.

Savitri occupied herself with tucking Lust into the towel beside his little green mate. The bronze salamandyr seemed to be breathing easier, and cuddling the two creatures together seemed a good way to keep both calm. Hopefully, they would be fine until a dragonhealing apprentice had time to look over them. She had just finished settling Lust when Ka’rys’s attempts to dry her hair distracted her, a noise of surprise and dismay escaping her before she could contain herself. “Rys, let that arm be,” she scolded him without any real force, bursting into another coughing fit even as her hands lifted to catch his. “I’ll take care of it once you get dried off; don’t worry. I’m fine.”

To placate him, she plucked the towel from his hands and draped it around her shoulders. Touching him, as she was, it was becoming harder and harder to remember why she had not just told him about their child right away, and his words momentarily became background noise as her tired mind tried to fit the pieces neatly into place. He had a right to know, shardit, and they were not going to have much time alone until the weyr was stable and somewhat safe again, until he was healed and Kalerary was recovered. That would be… sevendays. By then, she knew her bulging waistline would be far past the point of hiding, and she instinctively knew he would be upset at her for keeping it a secret. He had to know now, even if the timing could not have been… well, much worse.

Her gaze sought his, and she swallowed down the fluttering nerves working their way up from her stomach, taking his good hand in both of hers. “Rys… please promise me you’ll listen for just a moment. I know… it’s a bad time, but I’d rather you hear it from me,” she said quietly. “I’m pregnant. I didn’t plan for it. I didn’t… didn’t… know for sure until just before. I was trying to pass it off as… stress making me overeat, making me tired, but… I think it’s long past the point of that.” She was unsure what was more frightening: the prospect of being a mother or the thought that Ka’rys might not want to be a father. The issue had not… not really come up for discussion, not with their relationship being such a fresh development. One of her hands slipped from his, fingers touching the bump forming at the level of her hips. “We don’t have… to talk now. I’m pretty sure I’m not ready to. But… I didn’t want you to find out… later.”

[glamourie]

… hatchling? The one with Checkoth’s? No -- SavitriCath’s wasn’t that one’s mother. But… what hatchling did Hepaticath mean? Confusion swirled through the bronze’s eyes and he cocked his head to the side inquisitively. His gaze was all for the gold, anglicizing, skeptical; what did she mean hatchling? He almost asked Ka’rysHis, but something stopped him. Something that was almost certainly Hepaticath rubbing against him. He did so love attention. While Ka’rys giving him it was preferred (spoiled, he was; surely his beloved Rys could afford to lavish more praise and affection on him?), Hepaticath was by no means a mere ‘second best.’ Wriggling contentedly, the bronze crooned; he was on the verge of falling asleep, so relaxed was he. Stress was washing away, melting off, and in its absence was true exhaustion. When he finally went to sleep, the bronze would probably stay that way for a good, long time…

Oblivious to his dragon’s confusion, Ka’rys was very focused on attempting to dry off Savitri. Even as she caught his wrists, he didn’t quite stop, though he did pause long enough to shoot her a glare. His arm would be fine. She was soaked, couldn’t she see that? He was more concerned for her by far than for himself. His arm would heal fine. It would. “Stop fussing over me,” he said with a slight scowl. It made him happier to take care of someone else than sit and wallow in his own misery. His wounds were superficial at best, and the broken arm… the broken arm wasn’t even from the attack at all. That train of thought made him flash on Z’hin and some part of his stomach turned over. Z’hin. He didn’t really get along with the brown rider, but… Z’hin had saved Kalerary’s life. More over, he’d taken care of her, and in his own way was like family. He didn’t like him, but Ka’rys had cared. It took a lot to make him care about someone beyond a superficial level, and… to think of never seeing him again was exceedingly unpleasant. It wasn’t just Kale who was going to miss him.

At least she wound the blanket around her shoulders. He’d begun to worry he would have to tackle her over to accomplish that. Ka’rys bowed his head slightly and turned to look at the two salamandyrs. He felt Ciceroth trailing off, and the dragon’s exhaustion began to ebb over to him; he really just wanted to sleep, but he was so cold. Inside and out. Too much death, too much suffering. The infirmary was gone; so was C’leon. Fort would be rejoicing. The man who had his sister killed was dead. So why didn’t he feel like he’d won? Somehow, Kamerai was avenged -- the one person he’d cared about growing up. Savitri was alive. Kalerary was … alive. None of it comforted him. What remained was an unhappiness that could only be described as… well, as regret. So much left undone. One man’s death wasn’t worth the countless numbers that had died to get there, and it was only the beginning. Surely Benden had hundreds more like him, ready to step up to fight.

Closing his eyes, Ka’rys lifted his good hand to rub his temples. Then that hand was taken and he blinked to look over at Savitri in confusion. “What?” he said, and then repeated, “What-- what did -- what?” Had she said she was pregnant? She couldn’t - not - what - Half of a panic flashed through his mind at the very thought. They’d been under attack only moments before, she could have been killed, and she’d probably inhaled so much smoke, if she was pregnant would she be okay? Was she sure? Thousands of confused questions danced around his mind, but the single word he uttered was primarily the best response he had: What? Then she said - she wasn’t ready to talk? But she brought it up. What - He blinked a few times, then shook his head to clear the shellshocked look from his face. He felt a brush of recognition; suddenly Ciceroth understood what Hepaticath meant, and Ka’rys turned to shoot the bronze a glare.

“You knew?” It wasn’t aimed at Savitri, but the dragon. Ciceroth opened one eye proper to look at him and snorted. “And you didn’t tell me…? You better hope she’s willing to oil you as much as you like it, you overgrown wherry!” The nerve of that dragon! Not telling him! How dare he!

[kysseh]

Savitri was unsure what result she was hoping for, but the look of shock that Ka’rys turned toward her was not what she had had in mind, she knew. It took monumental effort to keep the dismay from her face--and she was fairly sure she had been unable to keep it away at first, so surprised was she by the look he gave her--but she managed well enough, flicking the bronzerider a hesitant sort of smile to cover. She had expected surprise but… some sort of positive reaction would have been nice, reassuring. The announcement had been rather sudden and poorly timed, though, a fact she recognized somewhat bitterly. Was there such a thing as a good time for announcing that one was going to be a parent within half a Turn?

Ka’rys seemed appropriately distracted by glaring at Ciceroth, and Savitri did nothing to distract him from his effort to blame the bronze for not telling him. She was slightly bewildered that the bronze had known, though Hepaticath admitted without chagrin that she had told the bronze. Hmph. Big-mouthed gold. The queen was excited enough about there being a new hatchling that Savitri could hardly blame the arrogant female for wanting to share that smug little fact.

If Hepaticath had not been adequately distracted by her bronze playmate and the figuring of which dragons and riders had survived the slaughter, she probably would have told Savitri how displeased she was that the goldrider had wanted to keep the existence of the hatchling a secret. Seeing as Ciceroth seemed to be falling asleep—or had been, before RysHis decided to make a fuss about the hatchling issue—Hepaticath was instead focusing on soothing the bronze to sleep. Her head rubbed shamelessly against his side, his neck… anywhere she could reach that looked uninjured and in need of affection. I am sure Mine will not mind oiling you if Yours continues to be glare and not be proud that he sired a hatchling. I hope you will understand if I do not let her climb on you, though. Eggheavy females are very fragile. the queen stated wisely, her tail curling around the bronze’s as one whirling eye focused on Hers.

“He knew for… almost no time at all, Rys.. I’ve known for almost no time, and Hepaticath just couldn’t keep it a secret,” Savitri said quietly, freeing her hands and suddenly busying herself with settling the salamandyrs and their towel-nest near Hepaticath’s couch. The dragons could make sure no one stepped on the poor little creatures. The goldrider tossed the strap of her bag over one shoulder and got her feet beneath herself, shakily pushing herself into a standing position. Wobbly… but manageable. Good. She had been studiously avoiding looking at Ka’rys, out of her own selfish need to keep herself calm more than anything. Now, though, she braced herself and extended both hands to him, fully intending to pull the bronzerider to his feet. “Come on. We both need dry clothes, and… I’ve got to…” She floundered a bit at that. She did need to do things, but… frankly, she was exhausted enough to go curl up in her furs and not emerge for days. Were it not for the fact that nearly all the weyr’s inhabitants were dead or seriously injured, she might have given in to that temptation.

[glamourie]

To be honest, Ka’rys did not know how to feel. He liked children and had never made any secret of that. He thought kids were adorable, and generally preferred their presence to that of adults. But… another one? Kalerary was still young, though not young enough to require constant care… but he’d failed her. That feeling was all-encompassing. He’d failed Kale, so who was to say he wouldn’t fail another child, too? The bronze rider’s mind raced. He hated the idea of failing. It wasn’t just his life at stake anymore, either. If he failed, it was also their child’s. The reason Ka’rys was upset was very simple: While he loved the idea of another child… he simply didn’t feel like he could be a decent parent. Somewhere, Kalerary was bleeding - his first child. He’d failed to protect her, hadn’t he? Who was to say he wouldn’t completely botch it again? It terrified him to imagine not being able to protect another child. Ka’rys wasn’t stupid, though. He knew Savitri would never understand the logic. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t stop to consider that Kalerary being badly hurt was his fault because he hadn’t protected her, and she wouldn’t see how that related to them having a child. Yes, he was happy at the idea… but also positively frightened. He couldn’t even make Ciceroth comprehend it…

That pessimistic feeling, Ka’rys buried deep inside; there was nothing else he could do. Half of him was miserable and perhaps for good reason. Half of him was ecstatic. Savitri would never understand why he was unhappy, and likely would just assume it had something to do with her. It didn’t. In fact, the part of him that was elated had everything to do with her… but Ka’rys was a perfectionist, and he’d failed; he didn’t like failing and he wasn’t all that good at it, either. There was no way to explain that in words that Savitri would ever understand, though, and Ka’rys really doubted she wanted to hear all about his feelings. Not after they’d nearly died.

So instead, the bronze rider was focusing his attention on Ciceroth. Comically, the bronze was ignoring him. The dragon knew him well enough to know not to take his rider seriously when he was in a funk. Savitri apparently was another story, though, for her immediate defense of the dragon was both amusing and agitating; he was venting, he wasn’t truly mad at Ciceroth. Like he could keep anything a secret from him for that long. No, if he’d known for more than a few minutes, he would have spilled… probably because Ka’rys would’ve wanted to know. Usually, the pair had no secrets from one another. Indeed, Ciceroth was very bad at hiding anything from Ka’rys, though he usually did not bother to try. There was no reason to keep secrets between the two of them, after all.

“What do you mean you only just knew…?”

Ka’rys let the confusion he felt show on his face briefly. The last time that they’d been physically intimate was several months previous -- not since before Millieth flew. He’d gotten injured just before Millieth’s flight (a fact which Ciceroth kindly informed him was ‘very convenient’), and hadn’t actually been able to do anything since. He was feeling it, too, but -- that was beside the point. How could she not have known in that time period? He wasn’t accusing, simply confused - but then, considering everything, the fact that Ka’rys was confused was probably minor in relation. At least he wasn’t outright panicking, he supposed, though from Savitri’s reaction, he could just tell she was unhappy. What had she expected? She said she didn’t want to talk about it… so he wasn’t. He wanted to talk - but not until she was ready. Wasn’t that what she wanted?

Bewildered and slightly hurt, Ka’rys nodded. “Dry clothes. Right.” He probably had some in her weyr, actually… though, as he cast a glance at Aliscia, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted her to know that. Not that it was a big secret. “You need to get dried off, and we both need to start working on setting up a make-shift infirmary in Shmee’s old weyr.” Back to work as usual. It was the only real option he had, since she made it clear talking wasn’t on her list of things to do yet. Mmf. Ka’rys squinted, then curled himself into a slight ball. Uncomfortable? Yes, definitely, but at least he was sitting properly, not trying to stand, and -- and not running away. Considering his worry, that was a miracle in itself. “Do I have anything dry here to wear, or do I need to go up to my own weyr for that?”

He is happy, Ciceroth corrected with a gentle nudge at Hepaticath. He’s nervous though. He feels as though he has failed the hatchling, and the idea of failing another makes him scared. Rysmine is upset right now - not at Yours, but in general. His eyes whirled slightly, and then Ciceroth added, almost as an after thought, He blames himself for Jessereth’s, for Jarcith’s, for Rath’s. He blames himself for the hatchling, too, and… well, Rysmine is very upset in general. Just as he blamed himself for Aslath’s. He feels like it is his fault Selenitas got attacked. Do not let Yours bring that up, please. He isn’t ready to talk about it.

[kysseh]

“I mean that… the overeating, the missed cycles… I thought it was stress. Worrying about you… just… worrying. I knew it was suspicious, but I didn’t think... I didn’t think. Not until… when we were in the infirmary.”

Savitri’s reply was perhaps a bit more sharply stated than she intended, and the goldrider immediately bit her lip and fervently wished she had better control of her mouth at times. The quivering in her limbs was a mixture of emotion and physical discomfort, and wet, restrictive clothing was doing neither cause any good. Her constantly-shifting gaze did not miss the confusion on the bronzerider’s face, and she wished he would not press further. “I… I wasn’t going to tell you now, not with… everything going on, but I knew you’d be furious with me when you found out later.” To show trust in a bad time or to risk his wrath later by momentarily sparing him the knowledge… such had been the quandary. Too late now, though. He seemed very overwhelmed; waiting now seemed like it would have been the best choice.

Her eyes focused on his face, tracing the contours of it and wishing she could just touch him and be grateful that neither of them were dead. Bending back down to him was not a good idea, though. She was unsure if she trusted her balance for the moment. His question had her bewildered for half a second, and then she bobbed her head in a brisk nod. “You… you have clothes here. I’ll get them.” She turned to leave and managed to not trip over the two streaks of fluff that zoomed in from the rider half of the weyr, both furballs (one significantly larger and more graceful than the other) moving right past her ankles. Fish easily turned around to trot after the goldrider as Savitri moved in search of dry clothes, but Vira pounced right at Ka’rys, purring madly as she sought attention. The feline was obviously unconcerned by the fact that her attention-source was sopping wet. Any attention was good, and attention by wet-person was better than attention by crying-babies.

Ignoring the curious look that Aliscia gave her, Savitri dropped her sopping-wet healer’s bag in her bathing room and promptly stripped to her skin, willing herself to ignore the bumps all over her flesh. Cold. A quick all-over dry of her body was all she allowed before she quickly wrapped herself in a towel and emerged from the bathing room to rummage through her trunk. Her hands were shaking, which made the job quite the challenge, but she managed to pull on sufficient clothing as to cover herself. Dark colored pants and a dark top were best: it made the blood show less. Unfortunately, the snugger cut of the shirt did nothing to help conceal the bump at her hips, but she made an effort to not acknowledge that, slipping her feet into her boots with clumsiness borne of haste. After draping the half-damp towel around her shoulders again for the sake of her wet hair, it took little effort to snatch up dry towels and a comb. What else did she need?

Ciceroth says to not talk to His about the attack. RysHis is very upset right now. Hepaticath suddenly interjected to Savitri, startling the goldrider into freezing for a moment. Not… the attack? Why? At Savitri’s silent query, the gold kindly relayed Ciceroth’s statement, word-for-word, with such a lack of inflection in her mental tones that Savitri had to resist the urge to cringe. Waiting would certainly have been the better option. Ka’rys seemed to have enough worries on his mind, and she cursed herself beneath her breath as she snatched up dry clothes for the bronzerider and made her way back toward the dragon-half of the weyr, the silvery feline still following her and making a fuss loud enough to wake the dead.

Literally.

“Dry clothes. Don’t you dare say a thing about the shirt,” she scolded him weakly, waiting for his comment about the black pants and old gray shirt she had brought for him. He’d want to know about it, she was sure. So she had stolen it for a nightshirt, simply because it was a suitable replacement for having a warm bronzerider to cuddle with and irritate with cold toes. That didn’t mean he needed to fuss. “Take your clothes off. I’m dry; your turn,” she added, setting aside the comb and bandages. Her hair could wait to be detangled.

[glamourie]

Ka’rys went silent. Not for a lack of responses, no, he had a lot he wanted to say to Savitri, but simply because… it was obvious that she didn’t really want to discuss anything, and long involved talks weren’t really wise in front of an audience. Much as he’d have loved to discuss, he didn’t want to do it with Aliscia in the weyr with them. Maybe that was selfish, but he felt somewhat outnumbered. He didn’t intend to pick a fight (in fact, he was glad Savitri did realize he’d want to know before he figured it out on his own and he was grateful, even if he did feel like he’d been hit with a hammer) but who knew: the chances of him and Savitri having a serious conversation without a bicker erupting were not in their favor. Bizarrely, they seemed to fight over everything - from clothes, to more serious matters. He definitely didn’t want a fight when Aliscia was there. Talk about no backup. That and he’d really have to resist the urge to push her into the river again. So he didn’t say anything. Instead, he nodded mutely (grateful for having a proper change of clothes) and turned his gaze toward Ciceroth…

… only to be attacked by a feline throwing itself at him. Blinking, he caught Vira against his chest and took to rubbing her head and her back. Her presence made him wonder after Reggie and he hoped, perhaps selfishly, that the feline was all right; Kale would be crushed if her beloved pet, too, was harmed. His head bowed and he ran his hand down the feline in his lap, giving her a lavish amount of attention. The movements kept him from having to look at Savitri or Aliscia, neither of whom did he want to see how upset he was. The comfort that came from a furry bundle of warmth being on him was actually diminished by fur sticking to his skin and it took all of his effort not to writhe away from the animal in response. He didn’t like fur clinging to his flesh, thank you very much. Did he look like a magnet for such things? Ughhhh. Why did he attract animals that were nuisances?

The thought of things he attracted made a shimmer of aquatic blue-green flash into sight, and Ophelie landed on the ground right next to Ka’rys. Her head cocked to the side before she leaned in to sniff at the feline curiously. Sneezing, Ophelie bounced backwards and flapped her wings curiously. Ka’rys smirked at her. “That’s what you get for sniffing at her,” he said with a curt nod. “Teaches you, doesn’t it?”

Mewling alerted him to Savitri’s return and as she came closer, his eyebrows both went up. He lifted one hand to rub at the cut on his face before a smile played over his face that was anything but sweet… but it was amused. He recognized that shirt, yes he did. Even though she said not to, Ka’rys couldn’t stop himself. “So that’s where the last one went. I was looking for it, too.” Yeah, yeah. She said not to make a comment, but he just had to. Considering the fuss that Savitri made over his shirts to start with, he found it hysterical that one of them just so happened to be in her weyr. Just so happened. “Oh, you can’t expect me not to comment. I mean, didn’t you threaten to burn these…?” She had, hadn’t she? Or was it Shmee who threatened the burning?

Wait, what? She wanted him to strip? In front of Aliscia?! Never mind that the greenrider was on the other side of the weyr - he wasn’t getting naked where she could see! Was Savitri nuts? “Uh.” Blinking, Ka’rys tilted his head and leaned around Savitri to look at where Aliscia was, before turning his head back up again. “… I…” Apparently his amusement was very quickly diminished. It felt silly to be so nervous, but Aliscia was… was weird. She didn’t seem to be paying them any attention, though, so maybe… “I’m not sure how well I can get the shirt off,” he admitted, indicating it with one finger. “And I’ve got a feline who I don’t think will like being dislodged.” There. Perfect excuse. Vira to the rescue.

[kysseh]

Vira was far from concerned about the firelizard investigating her. The blue-green creature was not loud and obnoxious like the haughty green-flier that divebombed the kitten on a daily basis, so the little black and orange kitten just watched the firelizard curiously, with as much attention as could be spared from the primary source of affection. She liked this humanthing, she did. He was cuddly and petting her, and she rewarded him with unceasing purring that vibrated the entirety of her tiny little body. Nice humanthing. Nice human. When Ophelie sneezed and bounced away, the little cat let out a squeaky meow of confusion, tilting her furry head to one side. What was wrong with it?

Snorting softly at the way that Ka’rys was cuddling the little kitten, Savi managed to awkwardly settle herself down on her knees beside him, steering clear of the puddle he was making on the weyr floor. It did not escape her attention that he was commenting on the shirt, and she scowled, only to be distracted by Ka’rys’s protestations to stripping and drying off. When he leaned as if to look around her, she grumbled and glanced behind. Had Aliscia followed her? No, the greenrider was still in the other part of the weyr and out of Savitri’s line of sight. Turning back to her bronzerider, an expression of annoyance still painted on her face, she extended her hands to pluck the protesting kitten from her perch. “Shhh, it’s all right. I’ll give you back to him when he’s all dried off,” she murmured to the kitten, gratified when Vira almost immediately settled down to purring as soon as she was securely settled on the goldrider’s thighs. Dry warmth.

“No feline now. I’ll help you get the shirt off,” Savitri said simply, reaching her hands to slide beneath the shirt and draw it up over his head. If her fingers happened to brush his skin, no one would blame her, right? She liked to touch him, and it was comforting to the both of them. Or… it was to her anyway. It was difficult to remove the shirt around his wounds, but she made an effort of it nonetheless. “I’ve got plenty of towels, so… we can get you dried off. I’ll see what I can do for those slashes too. Redwort and bandages for the worse ones. Do you need numbweed for any of them?" She knew he hated numbweed, or she would have forced it on him. Considering the way things were happening, pushing him at the moment was likely unwise. Savitri did not want to be snapped at.

Savitri’s thought patterns made Hepaticath rumble softly in amusement, and the queen ignored the glare that was sent her way in favor of laying her neck over Ciceroth’s and half-curling her glimmering gold bulk around his. Rest, Ciceroth. Mine will take care of Yours and the hatchlings. she said softly, one whirling eye fixed on their riders. Hers was working very hard to get RysCiceroth’s extra hide off, and Hepaticath wondered why she did not use the pointed sharp things to just cut it off. Wouldn’t that have been simpler?

“I’m going to want that gray shirt back, you know. It’s one of the few shirts I have to wear at night that… fits loosely nowadays,” Savitri grumbled softly, tilting her head to examine the cut on Ka’rys’s face. On a whim, she leaned forward to kiss the spot just above it. It reminded her of her little brothers, demanding a kiss when something was wounded, as if a simple kiss could make it all better. “Besides, the shirt and pillow are good bartering items if you ever decide you want them back.” She hoped he didn’t, but she was willing to trade.