Things could have gone much better. It wasn't the look on Kyrian's face after telling his son of his relationship with Aursra that worried him. Verial imagined Kyrian would always love his "Aunt", not matter what she was. It was the sudden look that seemed to drag Kyrian away from reality, as if someone else were speaking to him and frightening him. Nevertheless, Verial did not ask about it, hoping that Kyrian would have said something himself.

Though Kyrian said he was happy for them both, Verial was aware Kyrian was also fighting something inside of himself. Part of Verial wished that upon hearing the news, Kyrian might have been excited at his Aunt's extended (and hopefully permanent) stay with them. It seemed to, on the other hand, cause more inner turmoil for the youth.

Kyrian's time with them in the kitchen had been rather short and when he went back to his room claiming to now feel ill, Verial found himself biting his lower lip thoughtfully. He was brought back to when he heard Aursra's voice breaking the momentary silence. After watching Kyrian walk out of the kitchen and disappear out of sight upstairs, Verial turned back to Aursra and nodded.

"Yes, it could have..."

Some time in the late evening after Aursra slipped a note under Kyrian's door, there was a noticeable rumble and roar in the darkness which had Verial waking up. He sat up in bed very quickly and looked around him; Aursra and Mycha both seemed to be asleep still. Verial knew that type of roar from anywhere, so he left his bed, dressed quickly and headed downstairs.

On his way down, he saw that both Kyrian's bedroom door and the back door of his cottage had been flung open. Kyrian was nowhere to be found though. When Verial stepped outside the backdoor, he looked upwards to the sky and saw for a brief second something obsidian and stealthy moving within the darkness of the night.

Kyrian.

This was not going to be good if Verial didn't act fast. Verial moved and found a clearing where he was able to shift into his dragon form. A great wing span stretched upward and he pushed himself into the sky. Younger dragons were often faster than older ones, so Verial didn't want to initiate any sort of chase. Instead, he used the cover of clouds and the night to soar above Kyrian's dragon. The dragon which had otherwise possessed Kyrian did not seem one of peacefulness; instead the way it flew haphazardly and recklessly concerned Verial that it was up to no good.

Once Verial was certain he'd be able to latch onto Kyrian's dragon, he dived through the clouds and caught the young dragon in his claws. The dragon was pulled from the sky and as it gave a fight to get loose again, both would go crashing to the ground. Trees snapped like twigs in their descent as they landed in a forest, Verial pinning Kyrian's dragon onto the ground. The crash or the trees wouldn't have hurt either of them, but both were capable of hurting each other. Verial was careful to not wound the dragon he was now holding, as Kyrian's more human-like form would be suspectable to the same injuries.

Odd colored eyes stared down at the other dragon, narrowed and almost dangerous. The sound that came out of Verial's mouth was certainly a roar, but the other dragon would understand him quite well.

"Give me back my son."

Post originally by Character_Kyrian

The Dragon closed his eyes as the wind whipped past his face. Unfortunately the freedom was short lived. Before he knew what hit him, a weight dropped on him from above. He was turned and pinned to the ground. The snarl from atop him was unmistakably Verial.

“Your son?” The Dragon laughed. “If you cared that much about him then you wouldn’t have let me talk him into taking control. You should have told him about the dragons long before you did. He’s mine now old man. Deal with it.”

The Black Dragon knew that in comparison to strength he didn’t stand a chance against Verial’s Dragon. However, Verial would hold back, where He was unwilling to. The Dragon closed his eyes and bowed his head almost as if in supplication. Then it’s tone changed. Instead of being the Dragon’s “voice” it came out a bit softer, more human if a growl can.

“Father, I’m sorry, please help me….”

As his father’s grip loosened the Dragon took his cue and flung himself free. Just as he was about completely free of him, The Dragon whipped his tail back to smack Verial in the face. He knew that it probably wouldn’t actually hurt him, but he was hoping for the shock to make him slower to react. He took to the air again and tried to make his escape.

Inside Kyrian was screaming, “Stop this! Don’t hurt him! He just wants to help me!”

“And what about me?” came the reply. “He wants to shove me back inside and never let me out. No, I’ll not have you grant me freedom only to have that weak old man take it away.”

The last comment upset Kyrian more then anything, even more then the face smack. “No!” He screamed and the force of it tore from The Dragon’s lips in a roar, echoing Kyrian’s anger. “He is not weak, just because he wouldn’t give into his dragon. I’m the weak one for letting you talk me into freeing you in this way. I shouldn’t have given you this much control. And I’m taking it back.”

The Dragon’s body curled in on itself as a shock of pain ripped through Him. Trying to keep airborne, He kept His wings pumping, even though he couldn’t see where he was going now. Slowly he felt his body being forced into a much smaller form, almost as if he was being folded over and shoved into a bag too small. In a moment, the form left flapping his wings (although very different wings from the ones that belonged to the Dragon) was Kyrian again.

His timing couldn’t have been worse though. As he looked up from his crumpled position he saw tree before him and all he could do was close his eyes and pray the pain wouldn’t be that bad.

Indeed, she had been there at Verial's cottage every day. Not only to play with Mycha, but to simply try and get to know Aursra and Verial better and try to see Kyrian. She wasn't entirely sure what puberty was, but he was definitely acting different. She spent every day hoping he would come out and play with her, keep her company, talk to her, confide in her, or even simply sit under their favorite tree together, or swing on their cherished swing. The more time he stayed in his room and away from her, she wondered if she had done something to upset him. She might not appear any older then ten, but her mind was fairly mature.

Would she -ever- grow up physically?!?! Josh was nearly thirty, Rook was now a teenager, Kyrian too. Raze and Umbra were even teenagers.

Why wasn't -she-?! Why did her and Kyrian age so slowly?

Would she grow in height at all? Fill out like other girls? Have breasts?! Even become a woman like all the other women of the world who grew from child to adult?! Was she supposed to experience all the terrible woes and joys of being a teenager?!

So many thoughts ran through her mind, but something of greater concern began to nag at her. She 'felt' as though something awful was going to happen. She couldn't explain why just yet, but from her own perspective, -something- was going to happen. The faery girl didn't know when, but she felt it would be soon.

Sometimes she wound up staying the night at Verial's when allowed, in the hopes that Kyrian would come to his senses and realize his best friend missed him terribly. She tried coaxing him from his room with offers of all sorts. Checker and board games, sitting by the lake, even a picnic! What he didn't know was that she wound up sleeping on the couch either at home or at his house. With each day that passed, her fears grew worse and emotions were running high.

She wasn't sure whether to be angry by the avoidance, or hurt. There were quite a few emotions, some she just couldn't put a word too. There was no jealousy, because she didn't know what to be jealous of, or have reason to be jealous. She -almost- thought he might have a new best friend hidden somewhere, but that couldn't be, he'd tell her, right? In the end, she didn't know how to feel, there were too many emotions, but she definitely felt hurt and quite saddened.

Anxiety led to worry, worry to fear, and fear led to tears. She had cried herself to sleep for at least three nights straight. Finally, -finally- she was fed up with the avoidance in light of trying to be understanding and make sense of it all. And tonight she was going to get answers. One way or another!

She had planned out the whole thing. His window would be opened and she'd sneak to his bed and then sit on him while he slept and then she'd do her best to hold him down while getting answers if that's what it took. One way or another, he was coming out of that room! And giving her answers.

Marching from home to Verial's cottage, mouth drawn in a determined look, she actually looked a bit fierce. Just as she was about to put her sneak attack plan into action, all hell broke loose, literally. She heard the screaming and crept closer to investigate, catching a sight most unexpected. Kyrian transforming into a Dragon. One day she knew he'd fly, but she wasn't expecting it tonight!

Kyrian was in pain and she watched in stunned horror and fascination as he began shifting. For those who knew her, they knew that Fae were deeply bound too and connected to nature, and all her creatures. As the screaming turned into roaring, she found her own screams echoing in her ears, but the roar was louder then hers.

Kyrian never saw her, or at least she didn't think so and when he roared, that's when she was forced to clamp her hands over her sensitive tapered ears. They rang and rang and she was roughly ninety percent sure her poor eardrums had ruptured. A scream of fright broke from the girl and the next thing she or anyone knew, she was knelt on the grass and staring into the sky. A look of stunned shock, surprise, awe, intense worry, and fear gripped her. Some heartache too.

She feared he was flying away and never returning.

And then Verial came out, shifted, roared, and flew after him. She was entranced, unable to look away. Her heart skipped quite a few beats and the world seemed to fall from underneath her. It was just her stomach though, knotted from the high intensity of hers and other people's emotions. Which she didn't quite fully understand just yet. Her golden-speckled violet eyes gleamed as she watched the two dragons flying. The higher they got, her heart soared and so did her soul. She was a graceful flyer in her own right, but a hope was dashed.

-She- had wanted to teach him how to fly and now she feared that joy had been stolen from her. She had wanted to be the first to fly with him, and that seemingly was denied her. Biting her lower lip, she felt tears sting her eyes as that realization struck and stung harshly. If any fell, she barely felt them on her pale cheek for the fear which gripped her.

Fighting back the tears, she gasped when Verial grabbed him and they both plummeted to the ground. She couldn't tell quite where they landed, save the poor trees being demolished to splinters. The land shuddered under her dainty feet. The young girl shuddered as if there had just been an earthquake, but she knew it was trees severely damaged.

Kyrian then had tried to escape as far as she could tell, for he was airborne, and next thing she knew, he was plummeting. And so was her heart. It was thumping in rhythm with his wing beats since her wings barely moved.

She feared the imminent crash and did the only thing she could.

{::KYRIAN! PULL UP, PULL UP NOW! FLAP YOUR WINGS! Glide!} came a sudden mental scream. She tried earnestly to send him images of how to do it. If she had to fight her way past the Dragon, she would. And if he didn't like it, -tough cookies-! The Dragon would learn that this lil faery girl hid a most ferocious temper if he denied her. If she had to beat him silly with mental assaults, while taking care to not harm Kyrian, she would! More then likely, the Dragon was going to get a brutal tongue-lashing from a furious Faery pretty soon! At the moment, she was only concerned for Kyrian's safety.

As the trees snapped in the forest from the first impact, she felt it as one might feel aftershocks after a quake. The gusts of wind, if there were any, nearly bowled her over, if father and son were still close enough. Since she was already kneeling, she just curled up and covered her head in case any debris had flown her way. She was most always barefooted, and as such, she could feel the earth below her feet; feel its movements, its moods; who would think the earth had moods. The dainty fae girl might have whimpered, but she didn't hear herself do it. She was waiting with baited breath, fearing her best friend dead from such a plummet despite knowing Dragons were fairly strong, resilient creatures.

Without even really thinking about it, and her thoughts already on Kyrian, she remained in her kneeling position there between the houses. The shock of it all kept her in place. For the moment. She couldn't move, but there was a deep and strong desire to be there by Kyrian. And yet she felt exhausted, and her vision was becoming blurred and the world fading. She wasn't hurt, not physically anyways. However, she felt everything around her. Emotions, they were painful! But something else hurt too, and she realized slowly that it must be Kyrian. A sob broke free, for she was unable to control the flood of emotion.

Mentally, it was a different story. Someone could've shook her, but she likely wouldn't respond. She was seeking for some way to get through to Kyrian, hoping he'd hear her. {Kyrian....come back. Please come back.}

{Come back to me, please.} she pleaded.

She sat there, all the attention getting attempts inaffective. She appeared catatonic, shocked. Yet she was still trying to reach Kyrian.

Verial flinched and it nearly cost him. This reaction was due to two things: Kyrian's dragon's accusations of him not being a caring father and the attack that followed with such a claim. Verial had mere seconds to process the thought of being a terrible father and while he had definitely thought about that once or twice before, he was also smart enough to understand that this was also part dragon trickery to catch him unaware.

It halfway worked.

"Yes, he is my son," Verial hissed, tightening his grip on the unruly beast. "You didn't talk him into anything. You have possessed him."

And instead of hearing the defiant dragon's voice again, Verial ears were met with pleading words from a voice, which though sounded a big rugged, was none other than Kyrian's. Verial shook his head trying to comprehend if his son had really returned to him, loosening his hold for a second. Kyrian's dragon took this small inkling of freedom Verial had provided and used it to his advantage. There was no time to side-step the action; the swing of a dragon's tail lashed Verial in the face, making him stumble back just a few steps. It was enough for the dragon to launch himself away and back into the sky.

Verial was about to follow and go after the dragon again, when he saw something happening in the sky. Wisps of obsidian colored smoke were surrounding Kyrian's body, entangling his form like snakes. Many vapors circled about the dragon, so much so that Verial couldn't figure out what was going on until the being in the sky was getting noticeably smaller. When the wisps that surrounded Kyrian's dragon had faded away, Verial realized that the dragon had turned back into Kyrian and that his son, not quite ready for the shift, was falling and unable to control his wings. Far away, Verial heard a scream that he recognized as Ita's and wished that she had not followed Kyrian to his descent.

Kyrian disappeared into a thicket of trees and Verial had changed back to his normal form, running towards where the little boy had fallen and using raven colored wings to carry him faster. Verial had hoped that he would make it on time, but when he found the spot where Kyrian had fallen, he was faced with the grim fact that he was a bit too late.

The little boy was curled up, unresponsive at first, and Verial wasted no further time collapsing down onto the ground on his knees next to Kyrian. Verial looked over his son; the back of Kyrian's head was bleeding from some spot where he had hit a rock and his arm broken, the bone snapped and protruding through the skin from his elbow. If Verial hadn't of seen something like this before, he might have gotten sick to his stomach. However, he reacted, trying to do whatever he could to ease the pain that might be overwhelming Kyrian at the moment.

"Don't move anything," Verial said quickly, his breath almost lost, unsure if Kyrian could hear him or not. Verial was reaching down towards his waist and pulling free one of his daggers which he cut open the palm of his own hand with. Blood welled at the spot and Verial placed his palm next to Kyrian's mouth. There was no time for formalities; sure drinking your father's blood was strange, but the angelic blood that Sorvynia passed to Verial had certain healing qualities, no matter how much the her son tried to hide that fact. "You need to drink, Kyrian. It won't help you heal, but the blood will at least numb the pain."

When Verial was convinced Kyrian had taken in some of his blood and swallowed it, he reached towards the boy's arm and gritting his own teeth as well, attempted to push the broken bone back into Kyrian's arm. It was not an easy thing to do of course, and Verial tried to get the action done and over with as soon as possible. He only hoped Kyrian would not jerk too much in response; with the wound on his head and the overflow of pain, the young boy could have certainly blacked out.

They were quite a few feet from home and while he wasn't sure Aursra would hear him, he was sure Ita would. Hoping to break her out of her catatonic state, Verial shouted for the praying fairy girl, "Ita, go get Aursra!" Verial was unsure why he hadn't called for a healer - for his mother - but Aursra was the first person he thought to ask Ita to go fetch.

Waiting for assistance, Verial took off his shirt and began to rip it into strips, tying those strips securely around Kyrian's head where he had been wounded. Blood pooled onto those bandages turning them red, but the flow was definitely being slowed due to the pressure of the cloth. Verial did not make an attempt to move his son just yet; he only prayed that Kyrian would find strength to keep himself from falling again.

The young woman had awakened with a jerk, though she wasn't initially sure of the reason why. Was it the first roar... the one belonging to the newly transformed Kyrian? Or had it been the sudden absence of Verial beside her and the second set of roars that followed his departure as he, too, shifted? A glance was cast toward Mychalyna, still soundly sleeping despite all the commotion, with no sign of waking soon. Ah, blessed sleep. Something that none of the rest of them was likely to get much of this night.

Content that her daughter was safe and best left inside, Aursra grabbed a robe, pulling it on as she dashed down the stairs and out of Verial's cottage. She was so taken aback by the sight of the two dragons in flight that she nearly tripped over the kneeling Itarilde. It all happened so fast! Verial and Kyrian were in and out of the trees; in sight one moment and out of it the next. And then it all went terribly wrong...

On instinct, Aursra dropped to her own knees, intent on clutching Ita close... to, perhaps, shield the girl's gaze, though the latter attempt was likely futile. She knew that she wouldn't have been able to look away in the girl's place. She wanted to murmur that it would all be all right, but she didn't know... and the comforting words that would usually have come so readily to the poet's lips were stuck in her throat.

Then, there was Verial's voice calling out; strained in a way that she'd never before heard from him... She grasped Ita's shoulders, holding her at arm's length for a moment to make sure she was okay... that she was responsive. "We're coming, Verial! I'm here!" She called out. Part of her wanted to shelter Ita from the sight of the wounded Kyrian, but the other part of her felt that the lad was going to need all of the love and positive energy they could muster just now. So, she would release Ita's shoulders and offer one of her hands to the faerie instead so that they could go together to see what could be done...

Post originally by Character_Kyrian

He slowly became aware that he wasn’t dead. You didn’t feel pain when you were dead, or at least that’s what he hoped. He couldn’t even focus his thoughts; it was like a boulder had been smashed into his head. There was a ringing in his ears. It was soft, but persistent like it was talking to him. He opened his mouth the reply, but couldn’t seem to remember how to form words just yet. This would have troubled him, but his thoughts were everywhere and nowhere all at the same time.

Kyrian couldn’t remember what had happened leading up to him being awake again. Something bad was all he got the feeling of. Whatever had happened wasn’t something good. The last thing he vividly remembered was walking home with his father, Aursra and Mycha.

His father. That was the last thing he remembered; he’d been upset. But it wasn’t just his emotions either. It was like there had been something else inside him that had added to his anger. He wasn’t even sure why he was angry. It was as if something had taken control and just ran ramped through his mind.

“Stop this! Don’t hurt him! He just wants to help me!”

His eyes flew open and he was looking into the face of his father. There was a cut on his palm and it was pushed to the side of Kyrian’s mouth. He muttered from around his father’s hand, “I’m so sorry.” Then Verial’s words came to him to drink. Normally he would have resisted, but he was in no condition to do that now. He drank. Once he had, he pulled back. A tear rolled down his cheek. What had he done? What had he allowed to happen?

Then, despite the blood, Kyrian felt pain. A blinding white pain ripped through his body and suddenly he was very aware of how bad he was. The throbbing pain that he was now feeling was coming from his arm, but it highlighted the other injuries, his head was freely gushing blood, as head wounds tend to do. His right arm was broken, the other felt like it was close, maybe lots of stress fractures.

There was a tight feeling in his chest that he wasn’t sure if it was from the bruised/broken ribs or from his dragon being forced back inside. Either way it hurt like hell. He had a weird feeling in his left leg. It wasn’t something he could describe so much as just feel…it just felt wrong. If he’d been able to look at it he’d probably realize that it was twisted halfway around where it was supposed to be.

His father pushed again on his arm to get It back into place, and with it came more pain, worse then before. And it did in fact cause him to pass out. And just before he did he heard the sounds of two more people coming to see his horrific downfall. He’d never be able to live this one down.

Pain. She felt as if she was the one injured, and in a way, she was. The faerie girl was Empathic, such was probably a natural thing with Fae, at least some of them anyways. She felt someone grab her and gasped as she 'felt' Aursra's emotions mingling with everyone's. Worry, concern, fear, guilt, agony. She could feel them all. Comfort came from Aursra simply holding her and she wanted to bury her face in the woman's chest, but she was still frozen in place, waiting to see how badly injured Kyrian was.

Her whole body ached, as she knew his must, but parts of it looked out of place. His arm and leg looked like someone took one of her dolls and positioned the limbs crookedly. It took her a few long moments to realize Aursra was holding her at arms length. She stared into her aunt's eyes, panicked, afraid. Somehow she seemed aware Verial had spoken to her, but she didn't remember moving to get her aunt.

Everything was happening so fast, yet it seemed as if time itself had slowed to a crawl. Feeling a tug on her hand, her feet followed and she then knew she was walking, yet felt as if she barely had control of herself due to trying earnestly to keep in contact with Kyrian through their telepathic link to help calm him. When they finally reached father and son, her best friend, she collapsed to her knees and took his uninjured hand in her own and pressed it to her cheek, sobbing; her tears sparkling on his hand.

Scrubbing them away with a quick swipe of the back of her hand, she sniffled and then tried to focus on her beloved friend. She watched as Verial worked to set the broken arm, tears staining her pale cheeks. She didn't care that her skirt was dirty, didn't give a thought about herself. Noticed how bloody his head was and that he had a head wound, so she 'borrowed her Papa's hanky from his pocket and pressed it to the wound on Kyrian's head to slow the bleeding. Papa might get her later, but she could always make or buy him a new hanky later.

The hanky might become rather bloody pretty quick, so if need be, she'd 'borrow' a dish towel from the kitchen within Verial's cottage next. It was the second thing she'd thought and it didn't occur to her that it might have been used later since it was clean. Anyways, she pressed this to Kyrian's head while his father dealt with the broken arm and other wounds. Sleep, that was something she might not get tonight, she wasn't leaving Kyrian! Let someone -try- and pry her away, she might turn them into a toad!

Ok, ok, maybe not a toad, but she'd think of something.

As Kyrian fell unconscious, her wings drooped. Obviously she was distraught and trying valiantly to remain somewhat calm. Looking to Verial with teary eyes, she pointed at Kyrian's leg. "Will...will he be ok?"

(TBC)

At the moment, as Verial attempted to set Kyrian's broken arm back in place and tended to the wounds, it seemed like he was very much alone. Verial's mind was racing with thoughts on what to do and how to help "heal" his son, but it seemed as if the world had stopped and it did not start again until Aursra and Itarilda made their way to Verial.

The blood Verial had given Kyrian did little to soothe the boy's aches and pains. Unfortunately, Kyrian had passed out from the overwhelming feeling of his bones being pushed back into place. Before darkness had wrapped around Kyrian, Verial managed to shake his head and say, "There's nothing to apologize for, Kyrian. Nothing." Verial had no way of telling if his words actually met his son's ears or not.

Restraining curses from being spat out from behind his lips, Verial leaned down to listen to Kyrian's heartbeat to make sure he was at least, despite having passed out, breathing okay. There was a steady thumping sound for the most part, though there was an anxious and erratic fluttering every now and then probably due to Kyrian's nerves being succumbed to so much pain at once.

Perhaps it was best that Kyrian had passed out, though it did cause Verial much concern. Verial had tried to keep his face partially hidden for a while, because there was now a defined and blackened bruise around Verial's blue eye where Kyrian's dragon had lashed out at him. Verial didn't want Kyrian to notice it right now or feel any sort of guilt because of it. Fainting, though unwelcome, would give Kyrian a few moments peace from the pain that he would have felt. A deep sleep overtook the youth and Ita would not be the only one watching Kyrian's bedside with a guardian's eye tonight.

When Verial's head lifted from off of Kyrian's chest, he was met with Aursra and Ita who had made it over to them. Ita's mood seemed to worsen upon seeing her friend, her eyes filled with tears, though part of her obviously trying to seem resistant to fear. Nevertheless, the whole situation left the fairy girl's wings lowered to her back. Verial followed the path of her finger, turning to the awkward position that Kyrian's leg was in.

"He will be okay, Ita. I promise," Verial said and though his voice sounded very convincing, he was somewhat unsure himself. Verial reach forward and framed Ita's face in the palms of his hands for a moment. "Ita, I need you to do something for me. Please rush back to my cottage and get together some cloths and warm water and any sort of medicinal herbs you can find. Anything that will help, okay? Aursra and I will carry Kyrian back home."

After Ita would dash off back to the set of cottages that compromised the Villa, Verial worked on moving Kyrian's leg in a normal position. For a little while, he didn't have words or anything to say to Aursra, but after Ita was gone, she might have seen that was more worry in those odd colored eyes than there was before.

Verial was no good at healing, but he thankfully was able to set bones back into place so they might eventually heal. He had, after all, spent years training an army and soldiers for Oneiro. Verial had been in his fair share of battles, even as a King, and helped the wounded wherever he could. He had never wanted to Kyrian to be among the ranks of the broken and battered, but they were past that point in time now.

Moving his hands over to Kyrian's leg, he shifted his son's leg back into place. It was then that Verial was glad Kyrian wasn't able to feel it, because Verial was sure the leg had been snapped in a few points. The leg wasn't twisted strangely anymore, but it wouldn't be safe to walk on for a very, very long time either. Afterwards, Verial lifted his head to look into Aursra's hazel eyes and nodded to her slowly.

"I'll need you to help me carry him," Verial said softly. "I don't think I can do this on my own anymore."

The young woman had long tried to shelter herself from the uglier aspects of the world. That had been a large part of her writing in those early days. They had helped her to remain optimistic even on the most dismal of days. She’d written of flowers and blue skies, of love and heroes. She had not liked focusing as much on blood and war and death. She had outgrown that for the most part, but that didn’t make it any easier to see the lad—who was near and dear to her heart for reasons more numerous than just her feelings for his father—writhing in such pain.

Kyrian’s passing out seemed more merciful than anything else as she watched Verial perform the difficult task of setting bones. Aursra clutched Ita’s hand until the girl was being sent off in search of supplies. Somehow, she managed something that likely passed for a reassuring smile for the girl before her attentions were more fully on Verial.

An absent hand touched at the bruised portion of his face; touch feather light. Then—naturally maternal—her fingers brushed aside some stray hair from Kyrian’s face. Verial spoke, though, and she looked up, regarding him with those ever-thoughtful hazel eyes of hers.

She got the feeling that he wasn’t just talking about getting Kyrian safely into the house, and the smile that curved her mouth upwards was bittersweet but the fingers that laced through Verial’s were sure; her grasp firm in spite of the gentleness of the gesture. “You won’t have to do any of this on your own anymore, Verial.” She would help where she could in whatever ways that she was able. The best way to start seemed to be with getting Kyrian to the cottage. So, she stood up straighter, shifting so that she’d be able to take on a portion of the lad’s weight.