Better Ambitions

[Navisya Curare]

Navisya wasn't a complete idiot. Going off alone had been a terrible idea, made worse by the illusion of security from past experience. She hadn't brought Zlynge along, as the animal was difficult to control without company, so his barking couldn't carry through the mountains. And it was true that if she was hurt, attacked, lost, or otherwise incapacitated, there was no one to come to her aid. But she wasn't entirely useless on her own. In her pack she had at least remembered some basic supplies. A small amount of food rations. Flint and steel for making a fire, if she had to. A small knife. A comb (vital). And a waterskin. It was the last one that betrayed her. There was something in the water she had collected from a stream, a spot she had visited numerous times before. Now her stomach was knotted and refusing its contents, while her head pounded and her limbs became weak. Kalea's wilds were filled with vicious beasts, many made worse by Spring's djed storm. Who honestly expects one's tools to be their undoing? "Please…" The cold hadn't truly begun to bother her until she realized she couldn't get warm. Huddled over a collection of dry needles and small sticks, her numb fingers continued striking her piece of steel against a shard of flint, trying to aim the sparsely made sparks. It was too wet. Even the stony earth beneath her was coated in damp moss. Weak though she was, Navisya had managed to pull herself to higher ground, out of the valley and the path of hungry or territorial beasts. Large felines and even eagles used to prowl around this peak, but the hillgoats, their primary prey, migrated away last year and had not returned in Spring. Only smaller birds and burrowing mammals remained. It was too cold to worry about snakes by now. The higher vantage point was also a benefit. Navisya missed the flint and struck her thumb instead. Cursing aloud, she dropped the tools and brought the wound to her mouth. The tang of blood touched her tongue, which incited a chain reaction from her throat to her stomach that ended in a bad way. Gagging suddenly, she turned and purged again off the side of a cliff. Not that there was anything left by now. Gently, she laid herself down against the rock and closed her eyes, too exhausted and ill to move. With one hand, she weakly pulled at the side of her cape so it would cover her shoulder. She whispered to herself that she would just need a moment to rest, and then she would continue trying to build her fire. *** "Navisya!" Aessila was beginning to yell herself hoarse. The young girl finally paused, her small frame sagging against the side of the tree she'd just descended from. Wrapped in a warm, fur cloak with a soft, plush collar, she was well protected against the cold. Clearly however, by the way she wrapped her arms around herself, she had never stood in it. Through a break in the pines, Aessila could see their destination. She waited until Duvalyon had caught up with her, so she could show him where they were headed, but it would still take at least another bell to reach it. She could not stop thinking about the look on her father's face when he had ordered her to guide Duvalyon. He had a reputation for shunning his daughters when they angered him. To see Tevander speak to Aessila while he was still holding a grudge… it had been downright terrifying. He could seem like such a soft-spoken man. She had never once heard him shout. He was worried now, but was he angrier still? Would he blame Aessila if something happened to Navisya? What then? Forgetting selfish thoughts, Aessila turned to Duvalyon as he neared. "There," she said to him, almost whispering. With a clawed hand, she indicated the hazy shape of a tall, pointed peak far in the distance. The sky had begun to turn a hazy, light gray at its lowest point. The promise of an oncoming dawn. "That's where we're going. Oh Duv, do you think she's alright? Gods, I'm tired…" Apparently she had forgotten how much she evidently disliked him. They were on a nickname basis now. "Father was so angry. I've never seen him speak so much. And he never says anything to me when he's angry. Never." It had been a mistake to involve Duvalyon. Of course he'd do the "responsible" thing, and not the most expedient. Aessila should have gone on her own. It really wasn't so far. Tightening her mouth, she looked at Duvalyon with a hint of contempt. "So. Golem, huh? I get it. You don't even look worried." Apparently she hadn't forgotten.

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

Duvalyon didn't bother consoling Aessila. Let her feel the brunt of her fears and learn to soothe them herself, he thought. In his mind, the best thing for her was an unadulterated taste of hardship. Pain was the touchstone to growth. At the mention of his other title, his head turned toward Aessila bearing a remarkably flat expression. His eyes narrowed peevishly then returned to their inscrutable shape. "Panic and emotion accomplish nothing. Will your sister be found more quickly if I wring my hands and fume?" Suspecting the simple logic might evade her, he supplied an answer, "She won't. Rather, worry will hinder my efficacy." He walked past the young woman with a warning, "Duvalyon or Dovna, Aessila," he pronounced her full name to show he was not beyond the same courtesy. "Only call me 'Golem' if you want to be treated like the women who made the name." Aessila was quick to lob a hot reply, "Oh please. What are you going to do, Dovnayon ?" Her voice was a scoff, "Tie me up? Amputate my limbs? I'm not afraid of you." Duvalyon's mouth curled into a dim smile. "I'm appalled that you would ever think me capable of such things, Aessila." Her answering expression was curdled anger with sniping eyes, Forgetting about the hissing kitten behind him, Duvalyon fixed his eyes on the peak. Dawn was a threat in the purple sky, He had forgotten the bell they inhabited, accustomed to the strange hours of the Purging. A medic had to be present no matter the time of day. His nerves would fare better than most when wrung of slumber. The gray monoliths seemed closer than they were. He was used to the deceit of distance in the Unforgiving. The stones were now his guiding star. He was grateful to not be forced to march behind Aessila the entire time, dependent on her judgment. A frightening place for any. With a tangible goal before him, Duvalyon's strides were faster and more confident. Even if their attempt to find Navisya was empty, he would not be reckless with their task.

[Navisya Curare]

In any other circumstances, Aessila would have happily battled with Duvalyon, but her focus was not on her contempt for him. Navisya could be out here somewhere, dead, dying, or perfectly fine and waiting to be furious with her. There were more important things to worry about. Aessila simply could not understand this man. He had heard of his aloof nature at the Purging through rumors and hearsay, but even in dire circumstances, wherein a fellow Symenestra could be in danger, he was stoic. As if he'd been carved from stone. It frustrated her to think that nothing could move him, a creature incapable of pity or remorse. Was there even a soul behind those red eyes? These were all good lines. Of course, she only thought of them after the opportune moment had passed. The early morning ebbed away at her dwindling energy reserves. She badly needed sleep, but couldn’t stop moving. Aessila dragged herself on through the conifers and over the cold earth, occasionally having to jog to catch up to Duvalyon, quiet again but for the occasional calling of her sister's name. She gauged the idea of breaking the silence with fresh insults, but gradually lost interest in an exhausting new contest. She would probably lose, anyway. As the bell passed, the light from the sky became more offensive. Soon the sun would rise and the day would become blinding. It would be nearly impossible to keep her eyes open. Worry kept her awake. As they finally began to near the summit, the feeling began to swell and fold over into itself, anticipating what they would find. Surely she wouldn't be here. Surely the shallow cave ahead would be empty, and they would have to turn back. Aessila would be forced to endure Duvalyon's company all the way back, while she pestered him with pleas to stop and rest. A soft little zephyr, drifting toward Aessila through pure mindless whimsy, brought to her senses a dark, stinging scent. "I smell smoke," Aessila said quietly. In the next moment, her delicate frame filled with a new vitality. "I smell smoke!" She darted forward, fueled by a second wind, skittering around Duvalyon along what narrow path there was, and crossing the last few yards of their long, quiet trip. After moving up one last vertical ridge, she hoisted herself onto the mouth of a small, rocky hollow. She stopped there. A few feet inside the cave, the dwindling remains of a pitiful fire let off a thin ribbon of black smoke. It had almost entirely spent itself, leaving only ashy husks of sticks and evergreen branches. Aessila was not looking at it. She was no longer interested in the fire. It was as she remembered. The cave itself was not very deep, but it was enough to protect someone from the harsh winds. There was barely enough room to stand, but it quickly tapered off roughly fifteen feet in. Both hands over her mouth, Aessila was focused on a bright red shape lying near the back. It was Navisya's brightly colored cape, chosen specifically to stand out in the conifers as a sign to other Symenestra hunters. At one side, Aessila could see Navisya's feet, clad in light, easily removable shoes. She didn't appear to be moving. "Oh, Sya…" Aessila whimpered, frozen in the spot. In her next breath, she nearly screamed. "Duvalyon!" Immediately her vision was blurred by tears, and she was unable to draw new air into her lungs until Duvalyon arrived. "Is she… is she…?"

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

Aessila's summoning scream was superfluous, Duvalyon was already scrambling into the cave. He darted past her dropping his pack from his shoulders in a single motion and almost slid to his knees beside the scarlet mound. His eyes were stricken though the rest of his face was a tense line. When he touched Navisya's shoulder to turn her, she stirred and mumbled, reaching for her cast off bow. "Navisya," he said calmly as he restrained her lightly, "You're fine." This mollified her enough to send her back into her groggy malaise. Duvalyon's head shuddered into a bow and when it rose again, there was a content smirk, mocking him for his own fear. Forgetting Aessila watched, he squeezed Navisya's hand before lifting it to take her pulse. It was faster than he would have expected in someone supine. Her skin didn't have the sheen of exertion or fever, but a flush bloomed. Signs of a lack of water. The emotion he had betrayed was then tied in a knot and thrown elsewhere. A strange alchemist, he forced it to manifest later in physical instead of emotional pain. The medic felt apprehension the same as everyone else, but had learned to rank it, bind it and place it elsewhere until his work was complete. While her sister rushed forward, Duvalyon unwound Navisya's cloak to look for obvious injuries. A cursory scan revealed little more than a few abrasions. He left the sisters to their reunion to quickly unpack some of his myriad of supplies: a blanket, extra fur cloak, his medic kit, miscellaneous supplies from the Purging, water, jars of food. If he was anything, he was thorough. When he entered the women's eye line again, he was carrying a waterskin and blanket. "Hold this," he passed the skin to Aessila, "She'll need to drink it slowly." Crouching he asked, "Can you sit up, Navisya?" The medic waited for her to stir and helped her into an upright position before rapidly adjusting the blanket over her shoulders. "Any injuries?"

[Navisya Curare]

A sudden piercing shriek split the quiet, but it somehow sounded muffled and distant. Navisya stirred, her eyelids fluttering invisibly beneath a net of hair. It could have been an animal, or some imagined element of a dream. Hoping it was not real, she did not give it much further thought until she felt something touch her shoulder. Knowing this was not imagined, Navisya gasped sharply and recoiled in pure fear. By now she knew that rescue was unlikely, and that the only thing capable of disturbing her was a wild beast. Navisya's eyes opened but the light struck her blind. Her hands weakly groped around for her bow, which should have been nearby. Soon, however, she recognized that she was being held by clawed hands, not paws or talons, and could make out a roughly Symenestran shape in front of her. There were voices around her, indistinct, but familiar. You're fine. "Father…?" She stopped moving at once as a cloud of pure joy and relief thoroughly replaced her panic. Although she was still disoriented, she all at once knew there was no danger, no need to fight. Navisya was perfectly safe. Everything would be alright. Her voice broke when she spoke, and her eyelids fell closed. "I'm sorry." Forgetting her worry, everything else congealed into a blur for Navisya. The shadow in front of her left, and a new set of hands came upon her shoulder. A light voice sang hurried phrases of reassurance. Navisya could not remember the words, but their meaning bled past her bleary state and soothed her. When Duvalyon returned, Aessila retracted and made room for the medic to work. Peculiar how she could become a supporter of his skills and practice the moment it benefited her or her immediate family. Obediently, she took the waterskin from him, holding it in both of her dainty hands. A new question reached Navisya's ears. Her consciousness was still slow in returning, but she registered the command and nodded. With the help offered, she slowly brought herself upright, grateful for the warmth from the blanket that now draped over her shoulders. She felt the blood in her body shift in this new position, worsening her headache. While she held her temple, the meager contents in Navisya's stomach shifted as well. She lurched to the side, leaning on her arm and briefly dry heaved. All that came from her mouth was a string of quiet curses. Duvalyon's question took another moment to sink in. Finally, Navisya shook her head. "No. Just…" Once more she peeled her eyes open, but kept them lowered to the ground. Golden rims searched and found her own waterskin, discarded and lying nearby. "The water… from the brook… Don't drink it." The headache moved to stab behind her eyes. She leaned over to withstand a wave of pain. "Petching…" When it receded, Navisya's body quaked again, and a hand lifted to her mouth. Upon further reflection, it had been a quiet sob. At last, Navisya lifted her head and looked to see who had found her. She met Duvalyon's face with surprise and confusion. "Duvalyon? How…" Standing nearby was an ashen haired Aessila, and Navisya's confusion deepened. "What… I am so profoundly lost. Of all the… of all the unlikely search parties…" She paused, closing her eyes against the stinging light, to gather up her thoughts and string them into a more coherent sentence. Searching for his dark red eyes again, she eventually managed, "What are you doing here…? How did you find me? How did you even know…?" "I told him. I thought you might be here, 'cause of the cave…" Aessila chirped in before he could answer. Navisya looked at her sister, her face twisting in bewilderment. Aessila mistook it as anger and shrank back. "I'm sorry." Navisya's eyes slid quietly back to Duvalyon. She pulled more tightly at the blanket she now wore, shaking mildly either from the cold or weakness. Of all the people to see her like this, it had to be him. Wonderful. But he was here, giving her aid. That was wonderful. "And you just came for me?" Despite the confusion and misery in her features, there were also the barest beginnings of a smile.

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

One of benefits of being found by Duvalyon was his inability to be offended by even the most colorful maladies. He had seen more than a lifetime's worth of messy illnesses, and had adapted long ago. It was a point of pride that even the most gruesome procedure could be followed by an untroubled meal. Navisya's elegant dry heave summoned professional interest instead of disgust, and her single, broken off sob agitated him only because he could not immediately mend its cause. Navisya recovered herself, and provided her own diagnosis: tainted water. An animal may have died in the source upstream, or there was simply too much natural filth accumulated over the years. Either way, her guts would want to lunge for daylight. The woman seemed about to embark on a smile as she marveled at Duvalyon's presence. As much as he craved it, the medic had a hard time processing gratitude that moved beyond a social nicety. It was a thing rarely handed to him so he fumbled with its shape and the proper way to dispose of it. "Of course," he said a bit stupidly. It hadn't occurred to him to not come, even if it was in Aessila's annoying company. He turned mute as he pulled a bit of cord from somewhere on his person, showed it briefly and used it to quickly pull Navisya's hair away from her face. Despite being a somewhat intimate gesture, it was done with a clinical speed and detachment. Perhaps it was just part of his fastidious nature. He would have been miserable like that in her state. "Aessila, give me the water," he instructed crisply with an outstretched hand, "Start a smoky fire for the others to find us. Somewhere where the smoke won't blow back into the cavern." He spoke to Navisya without looking fully at her. "Your father and Kelswyn will come shortly." It was information, not consolation. "Can you drink any of this? Not too quickly." His eye caught the wound on her thumb as they foraged for places to look that weren't her face. Forgetting to phrase it as a request, he said, "Give me your hand." He didn’t wait before taking it himself and pouring water on the cut, gingerly rubbing dirt away with his thumb. Reaching behind him, he grabbed a bottle and bandages. The second liquid he dosed the wound with stung and burned the edges of Navisya's torn skin. Before she could curse him for the fresh pain, he was adroitly wrapping a piece of bandage around her thumb. It was a minor wound, but at least fixing it gave him an excuse to say nothing and be useful. "Now you can drink."

[Navisya Curare]

Of course, he says. Navisya did smile, albeit weakly, at Duvalyon's brief answer. She could read it on his face, bereft of any discernible expressions and focused solely on the task at hand: No further explanation was needed. It all made perfect sense to him somehow, while Navisya continued to wonder at his motives. Had he so easily forgotten the last time they spoke? Well, she wouldn't be surprised… He moved in closer to gather up and tie her loose white hair. Navisya froze, half out of compliance, the other half astonishment, and watched him from the side of her eyes. If Duvalyon were still feeling for her pulse, he would have noticed it quicken. She already knew that the medic could and would impose himself uninvited whenever he felt the need, but she was still as unprepared for it as she had been the last time he'd done so. Dance with me. Still half delirious, Navisya could vividly remember the sound of his voice when he said the words. It had not carried the sound of a request. Navisya had still been angry with him—and had every right to be, as far as she was concerned. Sparing one brief moment, the two of them had never gotten along. He was sharp-tongued and acidic, while Navisya was proud and obstinate. Even after they had both made an honest effort to get along, he instead ruined the night by arguing with Navisya's impudent younger sister, and then accused her of manipulating him. It was easy to hold onto a grudge from a distance, even as she had begun to think on how to apologize for Aessila's wild behavior. Had she run into him, she might have handed him that apology along with another piece of her mind, but that desire was extinguished now. Here was Duvalyon in her hour of need, unasked for, helping her up, wrapping her in blankets, and now tying her hair. There was no trace of the courtly gentleman she'd danced with at the banquet, just a creature coldly driven by necessity. Nothing about Duvalyon's demeanor held a drop of warmth. But he was here, and that said something remarkable. Navisya opened her mouth to speak, but the words came too slowly to her addled mind. Duvalyon spoke first, giving orders to Aessila. Amazingly, she obeyed, despite noticeable stiffness and a momentary hesitance. She was clearly not fond of Duvalyon, but even she recognized that it was better to serve the situation before her own contempt. The young girl peeled away, moving silently toward the mouth of the cave and beginning to tend to the remains of Navisya's fire. "Thank you, bitta," Navisya called softly, not sure if Aessila could hear her. Her wanting eyes drifted toward the waterskin. Duvalyon informed Navisya that Tevander and Kelswyn were on their way, to which she responded with a slow nod. She was still overwhelmingly relieved that anyone had found her at all, although the smallest claws of apprehension began to pierce through. How long had they been searching for her? Before Navisya understood that Duvalyon had asked for her hand, he was already pouring water over her cut thumb. Another fluid followed, just as cold, but this one stung badly. Gasping, she instinctively tried to pull her hand back, but he held it fast and applied dressing. "Ow," Navisya said meekly, more as an afterthought. She finally retracted her hand, holding it briefly in the other so she could rub soothing relief into her aching thumb. Strange that she was watching Duvalyon do what he had been trained do as a medic. Contrary to her first impressions, he was being absolutely professional. The waterskin came into her hands, and she cautiously lifted it to her lips. Cold, quenching water flowed over her dry, bitter tongue and moistened her lips. Taking Duvalyon's advice, she paced herself and stopped drinking before her stomach decided to reject it. Her hands hovered in front of her, grasping the container, her gold eyes studying the water droplets gathered around the opening. "Duvalyon." Navisya spoke his name again, feeling it was important to recognize his presence. "You really are reliable." Lifting the waterskin, she drank again, slowly but deeply, desperate for the hydration. She broke away finally, panting, and handed it back. Clutching at her blanket, she huddled forward over her knees. The headache behind her eyes still came in waves, and she wasn't sure that water would stay where she had put it. "Where are they?" she managed, appearing to ask the ground. "Father and Kelswyn… they aren't with you?" Even if there were others searching for her, it was unlikely that Aessila would have been conscripted. Father liked to keep things within the Web. He wouldn't have ordered Duvalyon to go looking. Little about her situation was making sense, which only bothered her because it was disorienting. She knew all the answers would come in time. "Is he… oh—" Navisya wrapped her arms around her stomach. "Can I lay down again? I don't feel well." Without waiting for permission, she began to move back onto her side again, unless he moved to stop her. Despite her misery, Navisya managed a weak laugh. "I'm so tired… and I'm not decent. I really… I really wish you weren't seeing me like this. It's really… not fair."

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

Reliable. The word stopped his motion's clipped cadence. Duvalyon smirked at the adjective before taking up his medic mantle again. "I have my moments." Navisya's later questions were answered loosely. He had half forgotten where the rest were heading. The landmarks and regions were unfamiliar to him. "The valley, I think. Your uncle and cousin are elsewhere." When Navisya began to drift towards the floor again, Duvalyon didn't stop her. It wasn't an ideal sick bed, but she was wrapped thoroughly in a blanket to insulate against the cave's cool stone. His claws went to his gray throat to undo the clasp in his fur-lined cloak. It was near the same burgundy color of his eyes. With little respect for the item, he rolled it into a lumpy pillow and slid it under Navisya's pale head. "Keep it. I've got another." Proving his assertion he left her side to pull a sable colored heap from his pack. It was a bit more ominous looking on his shoulders than the previous choice. The color suited him, but did nothing to warm his sharp demeanor. Duvalyon resumed his vigil by Navisya's head, obviously irked that there was little else he could do save wait and keep her covered. It was too soon for food, a purgative concoction would be excessive and a little cruel, and all her scuffs were mild. Had she been good and properly wounded, he could have made a splint or done some stitching. Instead, he got to be largely useless as the taint moved through her system. Her general safety was the preferable outcome, of course, but he now had nothing to distract. "Don't worry, by the way," he mined the words out of the stony silence. "I've seen a great deal worse." A few particularly gory images flickered in his mind involving slippery purple and pink innards and all manner of fluids. "A great deal... This is nothing. I am just relieved you’re not dead." He coughed to itch his throat, and added another line to hide any fondness his concern might have implied. "Your Web has had enough tragedy."

[Navisya Curare]

It was warm, the makeshift pillow that was pushed beneath Navisya's head. It also smelled of pine and Duvalyon, which was not unpleasant. It conjured memories from their meeting at the dinner party weeks ago—which worsened her nausea—but it also reminded her that someone nearby was seeing to her well-being. Tainted water, that was all. That could have happened anywhere. If this had happened to her while she was still in Ahnatep… Keep it. The words took a while to sink in, but eventually Navisya understood that he had just gifted her his cloak. Either he was generous, or he didn't want to touch it again after she had breathed on it. She smiled anyway, weakly and privately, impressed by his gallantry. Still, she couldn't help but think, It'll be far too large for me. Duvalyon spoke after a time, presumably to fill silence. Navisya only noticed it was there after he had broken it. She listened quietly, staring at the slight form of her sister seated at the mouth of the cave, laying pine branches onto the fire. His words were grim, and there was a gravity to them that Navisya couldn't fully interpret. She left it alone. It sounded personal. "Mh," she noised, indicating that she had heard him. She was also glad she wasn't dead. Then again, if she were dead, she wouldn't exactly have the capacity to be disappointed. Again, the weight of his implication about her Web was gradually understood, turning Navisya's thoughts to her mother. With nothing to say on the topic, she closed her eyes and intended to drift off into restless sleep. When that wouldn't happen, she let her eyes slip open again. "Don't worry, he says," Navisya said through another feeble smile. "On the bright side, I don't look as bad as his usual patients." A happy thought. Imagine if he had said as much to her at the banquet. With her thick hair pulled unceremoniously (but securely) back into a tie, scuffed and sick and curled up at the back of a shallow cave, she was a far cry from that woman he'd met before. "You can make a girl blush, Duvalyon." Well, at least she was healthy enough to be funny. "I was thinking about her, before you came," Navisya mumbled, watching Aessila. The younger Curare was cursing and pouting, pricking her fingers on conifer needles as she pushed them onto the fire. The resin-rich material burned quickly, crackling and creating a column of black smoke. "My mother. How she must have felt at the end. You never think your parents could ever be afraid, but…" She laughed softly. "At least not my mother." Duvalyon probably wasn't interested in any of this. Navisya, however, had almost begun to think she was going to die. It put a lot on her mind. Her gold, half-open eyes stayed on her little sister. Why would she have gone to Duvalyon? It made no sense. Yet she herself had said it. She knew the answers would come in time but it was difficult not to wonder in the meanwhile. In her delirium she casually imagined Duvalyon and Aessila as secret lovers. Perhaps they had been the ones conspiring to embarrass her at the dinner party. It almost made an absurd kind of sense. She nearly laughed again. "Aessila is taking it so hard." And she made it so difficult for everyone around her, especially the people who cared about her the most. "Duvalyon. For what it's worth… I'm sorry that things went how they did at the dinner party. Had I known she'd stoop that low…" Navisya thought of how Duvalyon had accused her of being in on it, but she lacked the energy to be angry. She felt as though she were treading on dangerous territory, bringing up what they both must have been thinking about. Regretting it, she went quiet. New words found their way past her numb lips. "How is Father?" She felt badly that he was out looking for her, more for his sake than her own. As Duvalyon had said, her Web had seen enough tragedy. She let loose a deep breath as she shivered. "I can't get warm, ha ha."

[Duvalyon Hellebore]

As Navisya began to dredge a corpse out of the river with her half delirious apology, Duvalyon barely turned his head so she could see his flat, forbidding expression. Now was not the time to discuss the party. He was going to proceed as if she had just made gurgling sounds and spare them both. When she trailed off, his expression "brightened" from censure to mild stoicism. "Your father?" he echoed, "Angry, like any would be," Duvalyon answered with unkempt honesty. "I would suggest you present yourself as feeling significantly worse than you do. It might purchase you a few days' pity." When Navisya shivered and exhaled against the cold, Duvalyon's placid surface rippled with a reaction. He moved to help her sit up. "Come on. Smoke be damned. You're going to join your delightful sister by the fire." Navisya hesitated a breath, then pitched her head forward once in a nod of agreement. When she stood, the cumbersome blanket and fur cloak crumbled at her heels. Stripped of the bulk, she was a vivid cardinal once again. Duvalyon picked up only the furred cloak and spun it round her shoulders. He left it to her to pull the edges over her heart. Her red cloak had reflected a false rose on her drawn cheek. The flower withered to gray under his shadow and this new layer. "I'll get the blanket and water later," he mumbled, as if in reply to a scold. It was a slow trudge and required more righting than either had foreseen, but Navisya was deposited by the fire, away from the path of the cumulus pillar of smoke. "Your sister's cold," Duvalyon said bluntly. Aessila could do what she wished with the carelessly cast fact. He was grateful to have a reason to leave their second reunion to grab the blanket and abandoned water skin. It dawned on him a little late that perhaps he should have given Navisya his other cloak as well. He teetered on considering her insatiable if she took it and accusing himself of being barely middling as a rescuer. When he returned with the blanket, he held it just near enough the fire to catch the heat, rotating it gradually. It would smell of smoke, but Navisya couldn't be picky. He imagined it might distract her from the fragrance of acidic bile. "There." A little more roughly than he intended, he dropped the warmed blanket on Navisya. He made equally rough amends. "Do something clever with that for your sister, Aessila." Being otherwise useless, Duvalyon could only perch by the fire and feed it pine needles. The smoke shifted with a passing twist of wind, turning the stinging cloud on him. He batted it uselessly as his eyes watered. Gods, he petching hated rudimentary camps. Symenestra had progressed as a culture so they didn't have to withstand this misery.