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[hyanaimne]

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❝If this is important, you are better off coming to find me. Otherwise, leave a message.❞

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[miscreant]

[She has nothing to say to that. Of course it was unpleasant, but she could not be offended about that even if she tried. It was merely the uncontrollable truth of things.]

There are priests and at least one paladin here. You should consider their aid.

[hyanaimne]

As far as I know, they will not be able to do a damn thing, except to waste their magic.

[the look she shoots Sev is tired and wry] I will live. And be annoyed until it goes away, but it is not life-threatening. [her flatmates might have to live with her being ill over the course of the night, but it's certainly not as bad as the last go. This time, at least, she had her spell up]

[miscreant]

[She does not return it. ]

As you say.

[That's why singular living is better.]

[hyanaimne]

[Tempest watches her for a moment, then sighs]

Thank you for - [saving? Rescuing? God, those sounded damsely] - helping me back there. I owe you.

[miscreant]

You do not.

[She busies herself with rewrapping her axes and attaching them to her back more securely.

There is a long stretch of silence before...]

...I suspect I am partially to blame for this.

[hyanaimne]

The hell I don't. [she may not like the idea of being rescued, but she won't let that go without her paying Sev back]

. . . how are you to blame?

[miscreant]

I have an obligation, aside from the fact that we are familiar, to prevent Koltira from harming other transports.

[An obligation she is squandering but...]

Just as he would do. He has been rather...focused on that. I suspect he has not been tending to himself in the process.

[hyanaimne]

Then he is at fault as well, is he not?

[she frowns, regarding Sev for a moment]

Should you go to him, then?

[miscreant]

I suppose.

[Her lips purse for just a moment before her expression falls neutral.]

No. He is far enough out for the majority of the population.

[And she is no longer interested in easing his suffering at the present.]

[hyanaimne]

[she tilts her head, the nods; it really is none of her business, and a part of her doesn't want Sev getting hurt - even if she would do far better than most]

Alright.

[miscreant]

If it becomes a problem, then I will consider it.

[She opens and closes her hands. If she had her armor, she might have stood a chance, bit without it...

Koltira was simply stronger than her.]

[hyanaimne]

[the darkening marks on her neck and wrists says it's a a problem, but she won't argue]

Mmm.

[miscreant]

Are you certain you do not want to see a healer?

[She closed her hands and let them fall.]

Holy magic often counteracts our own.

[hyanaimne]

[with a wry noise, Tempest lifts her right hand and wiggles her fingers - only four, because one is missing]

If that worked, I would have all my fingers.

[miscreant]

[Seviilia observes quietly. Her tone is quite deadpan.]

You could always opt into undeath. Quite easy to reattach limbs in that state of being.

[She wiggles her own fingers, the normally glowing blue runes etched in them inactive and black.]

[hyanaimne]

While that is a kind offer, I think I will have to pass on it.

[miscreant]

Good.

[She likes you as you are. She almost says it, but...then she doesn't.]

[hyanaimne]

[it's sweet that you thought it, at least, Sev]

Mm. Will you be escorting me home, then?

[miscreant]

[Distracted by her own thoughts, the question seems to catch her off guard -- like she can't tell if she's being asked or being volunteered.

The awkward silence hangs for a second before she comes back with:]

That depends. Am I meant to carry you there?

[hyanaimne]

Do I look like a damsel in distress?

[miscreant]

[All she answers with is a smirk, thought light, and a very slow full-body appraisal.]

[hyanaimne]

[Tempest's response to that is something very, very rude in Elvish]

[miscreant]

[One slender eyebrow raises. Even with the different dialect, she gets the idea, and purses her lips.

If that is the game she is going to play then:]

Well, I wasn't going to say anything, but I have carried heavier and much less shapely damsels around than you in the past.

[hyanaimne]

I am not shapely—

[wait a goddamn minute here.

She cuts off with a sputter, because WHAT]

[miscreant]

[Calmly, with a slight flick of her ears:]

I think I am meant to be the judge of that.