Musesofawolf Thread 1 - Tumblr Posts

Straightening, a small turn of his lips upwards giving him a friendly smirk, he purred out in genuine mirth, "Very nice to meet you Cyra! You have a pretty, and fitting name." He rolled his shoulders, reseating his quiver on his back as he glanced around, eyes falling on the Ziz at their feet before he stepped towards it, crouching down. "Hmm, I need to bring something back as proof of the kill... Ah! That will do!"

He shimmied around the large beast on his haunches, reaching to his left hip with his right hand and pulling out a long bladed dagger, spinning it in his hand before gripping it in a straight grip, his left hand reaching out and grabbing the blue-back's tail and lifting it slightly. His knife came down on the tail, or really its tail's feathers, before beginning to saw at it as he glanced up at her. "You know, I don't have much else going on today. I'd be happy to hang around, help you gather whatever you need and keep a lookout for more monsters. I don't want a kind White Mage to fall victim to a wound she can't heal. Aha--got it!"

It didn't take him long to saw through the longest, and largest, feather on the bird-raptor's tail, snapping it off and holding up the Ziz's most prized possession, it's longest, and widest feather. The hierarchy among the raptor-birds and especially the alphas were decided by the length of their tail and back feathers. Holding it up triumphantly, he pulled out a bandage from his other pocket and wrapped the bloody stump up before lifting it and sticking it into his quiver, the long feather not too out of place as he rose back to his feet and turned to Cyra again.

"I don't want to intrude, of course, but if you want a little extra assurance, I could help with that." His blue eyes met hers, holding her gaze as he extended the offer, the feather in his quiver, slowly starting to tilt forward...and making itself known by flopping over his hat and into his vision, the archer letting out a little noise of surprise and batting it back of his head and shoulder, pushing it until it bent the other way and he ordered it, "Stay!"

Realizing she had probably seen all of that, he cleared his throat and offered weakly, "I promise I am not always carrying around a giant feather and getting distracted by it..."

"It's just as well." She answered.

Cyra wasn't much of a professional hunter, nor did she have the skill with a knife for breaking down a carcass, but she at least knew how to pluck feathers for quills. With some metal tips still waiting in her writing set at her new home, she could do with a few feathers to help liven the place with some color. Her distraction of thinking of her needs almost caused her to miss the next bit of conversation. Her gaze snapped back up from the corpse to her company at the mention of this creature's victims.

"Thankfully, no more will come to harm from the beast." She agreed. His laugh certainly caught her attention. One ear had been consistently trained on him regardless of what direction she turned her head. "Well they've already done a number to the skin on my arms. Comes as no surprise should my fingers be next, as most plants would view my hands as weapons lately. Thankfully, the Elementals were kind enough to grant me permission as long as I take no more than I need." She had a habit of chatting nervously when it came to conversation. Sometimes she was quiet, but others she could chatter on about anything that crossed her mind.

Socializing would be good for me...at least, that's what he would want me to do. I see no point in it. She thought.

The mention of her sudden appearance in the Shroud caught her off guard. It's true that she had spent more time in study in the last year or two in an effort to make herself useful. This was the first time she had actually ventured out on her own without her usual trappings. Normally her head would have been covered by a hood. Unsure of what company she might come across she deemed it best to hide as much of her face as she could. The clear brand across her eyes was bound to be recognized by some. Yet, as of late, more have mistaken it as a mark of a Moon Keeper tribe they had yet to encounter.

"I don't know what gave you that impression." She chuckled. It was light, and airy. "The Shroud is dangerous territory to be wandering in unprepared, of course I'd carry a blade."

The gesture was something she recognized. Dipping her head gently in response to his offer of introduction was customary, at least from what she observed from others. Her eyes scanned him once more, noting the way he held himself at a more relaxed posture than before. The gentle flick of his tail giving her a sign that he meant for this to be friendly. Hers remained still in response.

"Kaleh'a, was it?" She rolled his name over in hear head. Familiarizing herself with it's sound before returning the favor.

"Cyra Lunastra. White Mage, at your service." She blinked slowly as she replied with a bow of her own.

The teasing, the way she said "hunter," it told him enough about what she thought of the Keeper of the Moon hunters. He was well aware of the less than ideal behavior other Keepers had displayed in the Black Shroud, hunting as they pleased, where they pleased, and upsetting the balance of nature, even with the many, many warnings the Gridanian Wood Wailers and Twin Adders had given. He wasn't with that group, in fact despised them, hating how hard they had made it for a legitimate hunter and archer to survive and thrive in Gridania. He still remembered the stares, the mutters, the cold shoulders given to the smiling archer, convinced he would find and make friends, lasting connections, and friendly faces. Instead, he would have left, starved out of the country if the inn keeper on New Gridania hadn't offered a kind word, a place to stay, and a connection with the Twin Adders.

Meeting those pools of starlit-blue with ones of twinkling sky-blue, doing his best to not show the slight sting her words had on reminding him of the struggle he had faced, he could only placate softly. "No challenge, promise. I know you're more than capable, otherwise you wouldn't be out here."

He wasn't sure why he was a little disappointed to hear she was done, glancing at the log in question and noting that, yes, there were a few mushrooms, their spore filled heads poking up from the hollow log. As she shifted her weight to one leg, he did much the same, left hand on his hip as he leaned into his left leg, his tail swaying behind him as he mulled over her words, nodding to her bandaged arms as he spoke. "Unfortunately blood will draw attention, wanted or otherwise," adding after a moment, "I should have brought some bloodied meat with me. Would have helped draw out the blue-back. Instead, I have you to thank for drawing him out."

Already, he was moving, ready to offer her good luck on her journey back, when she continued and offered her assistance, his steps pausing as the feather floated back towards the front and waved slightly, his eyes lighting up as he nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, that's right! A few Twin Adder recruits were injured while fleeing from it. Thankfully not life threatening, but without a skilled healer, some might have to leave the company. I can take you to the triage center in New Gridania if you have the time!"

He had turned fully towards her, eyes still alight, even taking a step forward so he was closer, his obvious excitement at bringing her back to help the others bleeding into the energy of his tail, the lion-like appendage flicking back and forth as his ears wiggled slightly, poking out from the holes he had cut in his archer's hat, awaiting her response.

The way he complimented her name was more than just acknowledgement. She would never get tired of hearing it. After all, it was a name she gave herself. The gift of having a name, and it's continued validation from others provided her with a rejuvenated sense of freedom. Cyra had been stunned by hearing it, despite having heard it spoken by many others over the last few years. It still felt so fresh on her mind. As fresh as some scars still felt on her skin. She couldn't help but blush when he said it.

Her starlit-blue eyes followed behind Kaleh'a as he crouched beside his quarry. It was her hope that he had been distracted by his work that he wouldn't have caught the brief flush in her cheeks. If Bryn had seen her now, he would have laughed at the way she still got awestruck with hearing a stranger roll her identifier off their tongue.

"That sounds like a challenge, hunter." Cyra couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his comment. "White Mages are skilled in more than just healing." She teased.

The Miqo'te watched with interest at the man absolutely brutalized the tail end of the beast. Absolutely skilled with a blade, but not with the handling of his prize. She rested her free hand on the opposite bandaged arm, shifting her weight onto one leg while her tail flicked out briefly to the side. The struggle of the feather sneaking into this field of view had her stifling a laugh by holding a hand to her lips.

"I am mostly finished foraging. I had just the mushrooms in the log left to add to my harvest before I was set to head back. I guess the pricks on my arms attracted the beast. Otherwise, I've experienced no such trouble, even this deep within the Shroud." She patted the satchel at her side.

"You mentioned that this creature has injured others? Perhaps I can be of assistance." She offered. It wouldn't do well for her to reveal her skill as a healer and not extend her services to those in need. If the Ziz had attacked recently, then her presence would absolutely be paramount to their survival.

Her reaction was about the opposite of what he expected, his eyes flicking to her ears as they laid back, the motion of her tail out of the corner of his eyes, it all spoke to her...uncomfortableness. His eyes widened slightly, reeling back a step as he made a motion with his hands to apologize, realizing he might have encroached on her personal space without meaning to, his face coloring slightly as his face went from smiling, to wide eyed concern, and finally to an apologetic stare, as if trying to judge if he had offended her too much as she spoke. Thankfully, as he slowly let his hands drop slowly back to his side, her words didn't hint at too much discomfort, but her posture and reaction...the ears didn't come back up right away, and she still seemed a bit shy about having him along, her mentioning of a place earning a little "ooooo" from him.

"You have you're own place? Very nice! I'm living out of the inn in town. Always wanted my own place..." His gaze turned wistful for a moment, before refocusing on her, one ear flicking to face behind him, and stayed there as the other stayed swiveled towards her. A little smirk rose to his lips, something in her words making him smile, as he tilted his head slightly and purred out, "You assume that making sure you arrive safely at your house is not of utmost importance to me. After all, a group of distraught adventurers need your help!

"If you wouldn't mind, I would like to accompany you. I can hang back a few paces if you would prefer, or beside you." The ear facing back twitched slightly, and he shifted slightly, as if nervous, the tail feather waving in a slight breeze as Kaleh'a cleared his throat.

"Whatever you choose, I would suggest we do it quickly, because I think the brood is returning, and they don't sound pleased. I promise to not enter your house, now lets go!"

It wasn't a joke either, he could hear, just distantly, the sound of many clawed feet thudding into the ground, approaching at a pace that could only be described as rapid, and he had no intention of wasting arrows on six or seven Ziz with a vendetta against him, jumping up on the log and peering towards the noise, offering a hand to her to pull her up and over it, and hopefully away from the creatures.

Cyra had been unaware of her slight to the archer. Entirely unfamiliar with how Gridania had treated Moon Keepers, the healer was a complete stranger to it. Despite being one herself, she had no real connection to her heritage aside from dependency. Even so, her lack of experience with the real world didn't blind her from the way his voice softened afterward. She felt a sharp ache in her chest when she detected something was wrong. Her gross lack of understanding in social cues made it nigh impossible to catch her error. Perhaps this was something she needed to include in her next letter to Bryn. Most in Gridania were friendly to her, but that could have been due to the favors pulled to allow her residency and citizenship for the sake of keeping her past a secret.

Kaleh'a was quick to move between thoughts. From a slightly dejected demeanor, to an energy that lit up his very being was quite a change. The healer hadn't met someone yet who has quite such enthusiasm as he did, even between conflicting emotions. The way he stepped forward had her on edge. The friendly, yet energetic flick of his tail, had her ears angling back in discomfort. There was only one person she had ever really gotten that close with willingly, and getting comfortable around strangers would take a lot of time. Still, she knew she would need to bear it a little longer.

"I have no prior obligations to fulfill." She said slowly.

"I would need but a moment to return home to change into more appropriate attire for the services to be rendered. If you have nothing better to do, you're welcome to accompany me..." She paused, feeling a bit of shame before continuing. "Though, I must ask you to wait outside as I haven't quite finished polishing up the interior of my cabin. The walls are still in need of repair." Her face flushed.

Most of the work that needed to be done on her new home was something she fully intended to do herself. There was nothing wrong with having some help, but this was her safe place to get away from the constant din of the public space. Having little experience in social events almost always left her exhausted and in need of isolation. Despite how much she wanted to invest in the convention of having friendships with others, the uncertainty scared her. In the back of her mind, she half hoped he wouldn't want to join her on her way back to her cabin. But, as most had quite a few curious inquiries about her history, she knew it was unlikely. Besides, his excitement in her question was a good indicator of his motivations.

There is something to be said about touch translating more than intended, and in that moment as Cyra took his hand and allowed him to pull her up, Kaleh'a felt more than she meant to let on. The tenseness that shot through her was obvious the moment he touched her, and his eyes softened as he looked at the back of the healer, watching her tail as she moved along swiftly atop it. He followed, heeding her words as he balanced atop the wide log, his ears flicking this way and that as he listened for any danger, an arrow ready just in case as the travelled. He stayed a respectful distance behind her, not wanting to encroach, or set off that nervousness he had felt when they had touched, and he certainly didn't want to offend the healer who might save some young men and women's livelihoods. Instead, he found himself thinking.

Nervous at touch, and closeness. Tribal perhaps? It could make sense, and would explain the thick black tattoo around her eyes. But he didn't have a guess as to what it meant or why. Could be simpler, maybe she had a bad experience. She was different, from a normal Miqo'te, and as much as he tried not to stare, he found himself doing so. Partially at the way she walked, how her gait was easier than his over rougher terrain, his eyes taking in the way her wrapped feet seemed to just handle whatever she stepped on and seemed to almost spring off it into the next step. He was silent for a long few minutes as he just observed, wondered, and listened, only speaking once he believed they were out of danger, batting the feather out of the way again as he called up to her.

"You mentioned you got your house from the head of the Conjurer's Guild?" His tail swished behind him, ears flicking slightly as he thought again of where he was staying. "You must have had a good connection in Gridania. My welcome was...less than pleasant."

He chuckled softly, and then glanced up at the back of her head, reading her emotions through her ears and sound of her voice as he continued. "I'm glad you had someone to look out for you though! So many Moon Keepers are turned away simply because of fear."

The next few moments observing his body language in response to hers was met with an awkward silence. Still eyeing him nervously, her ears relaxed ever so slightly as he began to speak once more.

"It was a gift. The head of the Conjurer's guild placed the cabin under my care so I could continue my studies." Cyra hadn't needed to explain herself to him, but perhaps it was her way of trying to change the subject from the uncomfortable silent exchange of defensive postures from both sides.

"Where you walk is as you please." She waved a hand. She truly didn't care where he chose to place himself as they traveled. Straightening out her tunic to distract herself from her embarrassment. However, his concern for the Ziz returning garnered a more serious focus from the curious healer than before. She observed the way his ear twisted to catch the distant sounds of thundering footfalls. Cyra wasn't about to get caught in the herd.

"Right." She nodded her head and turned to follow.

There was no reason for her to really take his hand, as she was capable of holding up herself, yet she reached out anyway. Careful to not prick him with her clawed fingers as she grasped his wrist. Even just that kind of touch gave her goosebumps, and not the good kind. She didn't know why she had reached up to take up his assistance. Her muscles stiffened at the touch, and it took everything she had not to pull away from it. It was something she was still working on. Even after all this time, she still had such an aversion to it.

"Follow me, I'll show you the way." She was quick to release his hand once she had hopped up onto the log. Staff secure in her grip, she moved quickly along the large fallen tree.

Kaleh'a took the opportunity that her pause and turn offered to leap up onto a nearby root, tight walking across it as he hummed thoughtfully, her question surprising him. Clearly she had experienced Gridania in a totally different way than he had, hopping down besides her as he gave her a wan smile. "Believe me, I'm happy to hear you didn't experience what I did. Could be because I was an archer, and fell into the stereotype."

He paused, his gaze drifting, and then wiggling his ears as he murmured, "Moon Keepers hunt without care under the trees, killing more than they should, and upsetting the balance of the forest. They are hated for that, for their part in upsetting this beautiful environment."

He let out a heavy sigh walking around slowly, and realizing he had accidentally circled her, giving her another smile, a little warmer. "When I came here, I was shunned. I couldn't find work, only the most menial of tasks offered. My bow and quiver were regarded with hatred, and I would have starved if someone hadn't taken me in." His eyes softened slightly, his voice warmer. "Miounne found me outside the inn, without a coin to my name, unable to purchase shelter during one of the more violent storms. She forced me into an inn room, and told me to stay there and warm up, and that it was mine until I could pay for it. She set me up with the archer's guild, then the Twin Adders, and suddenly...I had a chance."

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he stretched up onto his tip-toes, before dropping back onto his heels. "I was able to pay that debt back two fold in a month, and still rent out a room to this day. It warms my tail that you didn't experience any of that!"

He gave her a true smile, his ears wiggling, tail flicking, and eyes gleaming as he stepped a tiny bit closer, then remembered, and took a full step back. "Well, good news, I don't hear angry Ziz following us anymore!"

They had been walking in silence through the Shroud for quite some time before he had taken the opportunity to begin his curious inquiries. Cyra had been enjoying the quiet walk, and had almost forgotten that he had been trailing behind her. That is, if the loud crunching of forest debris hadn't been bringing her attention back to him every few seconds. She had a single ear turned toward him the whole time. It was entirely subconscious, but if there was one thing her mentor had taught her, it's that one couldn't be too careful around others.

She responded to his question and observation with the turn of a head, and a short grin. At the mention of his introduction to the city-state, it warranted more than just a silent gesture of attention. She stopped for a moment, turning to look at him in concern when he spoke of the poor standing that their kind had with the gentle souls of Gridania.

"Clearly I've been living under a log," she chuckled. "What cause for fear do Gridanian's have for Moon Keepers?"

Cyra truly had no clue the kind of dealings that her people had with them. Granted, she hadn't been very educated about her own people either. Living most of her life in a Garlean Castrum would do that to her.

She was so...intriguing. The archer found himself listening to her closer, to the way her voice fluctuated and fell, how she reacted and seemed genuinely surprised to hear his story, not to mention at least interested. He took note of her ears, the way they lay flat as he approached, then stood up when he corrected his movement. His blue eyes did not miss much, honed skills useful for reading body language as much as hunting prey, his gaze dancing over her as his tail swayed calmly behind him. Kaleh'a paused and mused over her words, over how she said them, her speech interesting to him in how it differed from his own. Although if she was from Thanalan, perhaps that explained the pattern of speech.

"Truly, I am glad you didn't experience it. It was an...adjustment." His voice was reflective, his eyes distant, and a touch of a smile on his lips. "I came from a small village, where everyone knew everyone, my clan hardly more than two strong when I left and living among those of the land. It was such a shock seeing so many people all in one place! Even more so to find a universal dislike of my profession and past." He chuckled and bowed though, the feather flopping over his hat and face, even as he stood up with a grin. "Luckily, my charm and skill won them over!"

After a moment of beating the feather out of his face again, he slowly started to head the same way she had so far led him, offering his own past in return. "It was a small, secluded space, on the outskirts of the Shroud. It's only a few days journey from here, where the trees are shorter and the game more plentiful. Everyone knew everyone, and we watched out for each other." He smiled warmly at the memories, his blue eyes twinkling as he met her gaze. "I learned to hunt there, and how to listen to the forest. To know when to hunt and when to release game back to their home. It's all a balance, and one I want to protect.

He let his thoughts trail off, before taking a deep breath and stretching slightly as he walked, tail sticking out straight behind him before returning to its slow lazy wanderings. "Thankfully, that is all in the past now!"

He had never made it that far, his small home town bordering the Black Shroud the only place he had lived, and he couldn't help but ask, "Is it really as dusty as they say it is? Sand as far as the eye can see?" That was how the great land of trade and hard labor was once described to him, and he always wondered what that would be like. A life of green foliage versus one of drab browns and shifting sand.

"Oh and the Ziz? If they came charging up I'd shoot them down before they reached your home! Probably... Maybe... As long as I didn't run out of arrows..." He would boast when he could, but he didn't want to give the healer false hopes so close to home.

Cyra felt the fur bristle uncomfortably under her tunic. She knew a thing or two about being shunned, but by outsiders? The people of Gridania had been quite accepting of her to a degree. There were a few Elezen here and there who had given her a sour look in passing, but she was quick to change their mind when they understood the kind of work she did. Cyra wasn't by any means famous around the forested city-state, but her talents were much appreciated in the dealings with the dangerous wildlife and of course the Ixal. The treatment he described had shocked her to the core. He had been here far longer than she, yet received a harsher welcome than she ever imagined.

She couldn't hide the twist of shock in her face at the reputation her forest-kin had created for themselves here. Though, it should have come as no surprise considering their sea-faring cousins had a habit of selling their lowest born as slaves. She silently hoped that it wasn't the case here in the Black Shroud. The healer wouldn't know how to handle the emotions that would follow if there were similar goings on in the seemingly peaceful forest.

"Full glad am I that you weren't turned away in the cold. It seems the Goddess of Fate had plans for you yet." She offered him a grin, lips parted lightly in her gentle delight. It wasn't often that Cyra found herself honestly smiling. Bryn had warned her not to tell others of her past. Not all would be as accepting of her history as he was. There were few in Gridania who actually knew, and she intended to heed his advice. It was important to leave a good impression on people, and not let them get too close. A fabricated background did her well in situations like these.

"I have been absolutely blind to the plight of my Gridanian cousins. My family is from Thanalan. Most of them are miners, spending most of their lives living within the carved caverns beneath the surface. There aren't many of us, but as long as we provide traders and tradesman alike with the fruits of our efforts, our people were left to their own devices." It wasn't the first time she had told this story. As rehearsed as it was, she remembered needing to make it feel as natural as possible.

Her eyes chased the wiggling of his ears. She hadn't many dealings with Miqo'te since being freed, but the mannerisms she had the opportunity of witnessing seemed universal across their race. Her ears only flicked in response. The moment he stepped closer, they flattened slightly. And when he stepped back, they stood back up straight. Cyra was still fearful of others. The only person she had really been comfortable around had to leave for another assignment, and it was hard for her to truly connect to another.

"Ah!" She nodded in response. "Well, then at least I won't have to worry about them charging up to my home. We're not that far. Just a few more large trees to pass by." She rocked on her feet before turning and leading the way once more.

The gentle smile she gave was warm and genuine, and he wondered what her past was like compared to his. Surrounded by family, similar to his own life, his three younger sisters full of life, a loving mother, and an honest, hard working father. It was different than most Miqo'te tribes, the only real similarity the fact that his mother clearly led it, but she had remained only interested in his father, no move to increase their little tribe, and they had remained a group of two, then three, four, five, six before his mother had crossed her arms and given her father a look that said "No more!" And the blonde haired Miqo'te had laughed and agreed, focusing on providing for his children with his carpentry job.

Her comment about the feather pulled him back to the present, his eyes flicking to hers as he reached up, brushed a hand along the feather, and pulled it forward to drape over his head, and into his face, laughing as he gave her a pleading look through the blue feathers. "But it likes its new home! I couldn't possibly remove it now!" Even as he said it though, he pulled it out of his quiver, holding it by the calamus, and waving it slowly back and forth as he hummed thoughtfully. "I bet I could make a good charm from this."

He did though have to agree with her about staying underground in the sandy dunes of Thanaland. Everything he had heard about the country spoke to its heat, and his time in Gridania and exploring a few underground ruins had proven it was a considerable change in temperature--and dampness--going below the surface. In Thanaland, he could only imagine that was incredibly important, and tied into her family's job as well. He opened his mouth, to ask how big her family was, but he let it pop closed silently, his head tilting, and deciding to not ask too many questions of someone he had just met, letting her continue as he tilted his head with a nod at her joke, eyes sparkling as he laughed.

"Typically, I don't try and take on a pack of Ziz. I can shoot fast, but not that fast!" He turned, the feather in his hands dipping towards her, as he hummed thoughtfully, and peeked around it. "You would heal me after, right? Or during? Make sure I have a chance to get more arrows to help with that, right?" To be honest, given his flicking tail and upturned ears, he wasn't quite sure how much he could trust her healing. He knew to have the title of White Mage, she had to have a decent, if not highly skilled ability to heal with just Aether. Coupled with his ability to field dress, learned from trial and error, he imagined there wasn't much the pair together could not heal, besides fatal wounds perhaps. Her laugh though, he would not mind hearing that more, his eyes twinkling like stars as he brushed the moon-kissed tips of his hair up slightly, adjusting his hat as his ears wiggled at her, a show of appreciation for the joyous sound as he turned back towards their destination...

He almost missed it, the cabin covered in moss, blending in with the roots under it, the trunk behind it, the logs that made it up neither rotted nor hollow, still strong and holding if his eyes were to be believed, slowing his approach as he took in the surroundings and the well camouflaged house. His nose tilted slightly, the smell of something like rain from the damp moss reaching his nose, and filling the air with the smell of forest in general, making it even more difficult for say an angry animal to track her here. There were some things that could certainly be touched up, missing shingles, the roof carrying a few holes, but overall...

"Wow, I like it!" He truly did, the aesthetic of the cabin reminding him of his old tree-top beds he used to frequent, and smelling like it too. He bounced up to the front of it, hearing the little whisper she said behind him, peering at the door, but not approaching it fully, waiting for her to catch up and open the door, remembering her request to wait outside as he turned to her, and then in an exaggerated show, held the feather up and let it form a little arch over the top of her door, purring out as she approached. "Welcome home!"

That is hauntingly familiar. I hope it doesn't get brought up again.

The thought of a small village reminded her of the vague bits of memory she could gather from when she was a child. Things she wished to never cross her mind again as the pain attached to them was more than she wanted to bear. Rather than offering him a verbal response to his tale, she simply offered him a gentle smile in return for what he shared.

"Perhaps that feather would be better being carried rather than stuffed in your quiver." She chuckled. At this point, she believed he was doing it on purpose. The fluffy end of her tail briefly swished to the side in amusement.

Cyra listened to the brief summary of his past. Hers was short and sweet, but he seemed to enjoy talking about his family. The way he proudly held himself when mentioning the obstacles he had to overcome to be where he was in the present said a lot about the kind of person he was. Prideful, for sure. Yet, mixed in with all of that was a Miqo'te who had a gentleness and a want to aid others. Everyone had a little bit of wanting to save the world, she just hadn't realized the majority of them happened to exist in Eorzea.

At his question, Cyra paused again. She should have expected for others to ask about it, especially if they had never left the lush greens of the Black Shroud. Even with how well-traveled the fledgling healer was, she hadn't set foot in the hot dunes and canyons of Thanalan. She was going off of the things she had read in books, or what little Bryn told her of the region.

"It's not always dust and sand, but it certainly is hot. Makes sense why my ancestors chose to stay underground in the mines." She chuckled. Cyra hoped he wouldn't ask any more about it. All she would be able to feed him were lines from books that lined her library. In truth, she wanted to travel more. The trip from Garlemald to the Black Shroud took her through Coerthas, a cold and unforgiving snowscape. The Black Shroud could be hot, but not nearly as warm as the desert of Thanalan. Even if it would make her uncomfortable, she still wanted to see it for herself.

"Best make sure you're well stocked for a pack of angry Ziz, then!" She crinkled her nose with a teasing smile as she spoke to him. "They're not all bad, but when they're on a rampage, best be ready!" She laughed.

She couldn't remember the last time she laughed this much. Her sole focus had been on her studies as of late, and it definitely had taken its toll on her. If she wasn't careful, she could become addicted to his company. Much like her mentor, Cyra schooled her emotions back, gently resuming the solitary healer façade as the cabin came into view.

It was quite dilapidated. Still had a few missing shingles on the roof, but with the large tree that cradled the humble abode in its roots, she didn't have much to worry about with the rain. The moss that grew over nearly every inch of the logs that made up her home almost had it completely camouflaged in the surroundings. The place definitely looked like it had been abandoned for some time. The smell of it though was an absolute wonder. If the healer had fallen in love with the smell of a cooked meal, then this was her true love. Moss did not grow anywhere in the cold reaches of Garlemald. She didn't even know the smell of petrichor until she had reached the border of the forest. The Miqo'te took in a deep breath, appreciating the refreshing aroma of the forest's bounty.

"Home, sweet home." She whispered.

He was more than happy to respect her boundaries, recognizing she was nervous around him, around, if he had to guess, anyone and everyone. Plus, given how remote and separate the space felt, he had a feeling stepping in would be stepping into her bubble. He did manage to give her a nod and remark with a soft chuckle, "Well I am glad you have so much trust in your skills, and I look forward to seeing them at work."

It was a moment more before she walked into her home, the Miqo'te archer pulling back the feather, staring at it as it waved softly, and finally with a sigh reaching back and sticking it into his quiver again. He just didn't have a better place for it, and he wasn't going to leave it behind. That was good money! His mind idly wandered to the way she had almost skirted him, even when entering her home. It wasn't always he felt a little off...balance, usually able to adapt and handle anything so quickly, but her...she threw his senses out of wack and had him wanting to do everything he could to protect her, which was dumb. He had just met her! And she could clearly handle herself. He was just about to lean against the door frame on the outside, content to wait, when she spoke up, the tremor in her voice had him turning, concern flashing on his face, ears slicked back, fearing she had seen something in her house, only to find her looking at him.

Oh shit what did I do?! Was the porch off limits? Was I supposed to wait down on the roots? He was about to make a move for the steps, to step down, when she finished her initial sentence, and he froze, paused, slowly turned, and his heart broke at the look of nervousness on her face, the tremble of her hand, and he slowly took a step forward. And another. And his boots slowly stepped over the threshold of her cabin, leaving him standing just inside the doorway with her to his side, staring at him, until she excused herself and sped down the hallway, leaving him mouth open, trying to say something, and just barely managing to pop his mouth close and say in a confused whisper, "Ooookay...well, uhm..." He turned slightly, then back towards the now empty hallway, pointing towards it, then pointing to the door, and calling softly after her, "Just gonna...close this!" And did just that, closing the door with a soft shnick and giving it a thumbs up, only to have the feather droop forward over his eyes again.

Which resulted in him grabbing it, strangling it, and shaking it as he growled out, "Why can you not behave!?" He flipped it back over his head, the stubborn thing listening for the moment and staying back, before he turned and actually really looked at the area he was in. His blue eyes slowly slid over the floor, the walls, the little bit of moss creeping in, and the in general...dilapidated state. Well, dilapidated was harsh, maybe more...lived in? Even that seemed like the wrong word, the archer musing on it a moment more, before he shrugged his shoulders and gave up. He wandered slowly down the hall, hearing boards creak, a few dip and give, and he hummed thoughtfully, recalling his brief apprenticeship with his father. They needed to be replaced, and he could likely do it too...but then the mismatched flooring would be an issue, plus without addressing the roof first they would just rot again...he was at the end of the hallway, and he peeked furtively into the next room, sticking his head into it without letting his body cross into it, seeing the bare sitting room, the few small furniture pieces, and then withdrew his head. He kept his gaze away from the next doorway, just in case, turning and heading slowly back down the hallway, a hand reaching up and touching the feather thoughtfully.

Inviting him in had to be...big for his fellow Keeper, given her reaction, and he wanted to thank her for it in someway, encourage her to open up. His fingers brushed that blue feather, and he felt his smile grow as his eyes lit up with moonlight, quickly pulling a knife from his belt with his left hand.

A quick cut, an inch long segment of feather in his hand, and he set to work, slowly folding the flights in and over each other, creating a braided pattern that crossed the calamus. A few cuts here and there, securing the pattern with careful tucks and double tucks, and he had an inch long blue feather braid, one that he thought would look perfect on her red scarf she wore around her neck. He held it up, carefully admiring it, spinning it, making sure it wouldn't fall apart, and then nodding happily at his handy work, leaning back against the wall with a sigh as he waited patiently, little feather trinket clasped in his hand.

"I haven't the opportunity to cast magicks in the midst of battle, but I'm sure enough of my skills that I could keep you out of mortal harm." She let out an amused sigh. Cyra took note of the obvious joy in his eyes. She wasn't sure what had sparked it, but it was nice to have lighter moments to enjoy. Lately, she had her nose stuck in books, and practicing her spellcrafts in solitude. As careful as she was supposed to be when dealing with strangers, this didn't seem so bad.

She watched in silence as he was stricken by it's beauty. Every time she came upon the sight of it, she also found herself caught in a trance. It was like something out of a fairytale. Not to mention the gentle tree that cradled it carefully, and the blessing of the forest made it easy to sleep soundly without the threat of predators knocking down her door. Yet, her solitude had silently been broken now that she had shown another her humble abode. She felt a little sad thinking about saying goodbye to her long days spent entirely quiet and without speaking. Talking to others was certainly a little exhausting, but a necessary evil for her chosen career.

She blinked in surprise as he happily jaunted up to the front of her home. He had much more energy in his movements than a certain someone she knew. Cyra couldn't help but compare him to Bryn. She used him as her template of judging if someone was trustworthy or not. Kaleh'a wasn't Bryn though, and no amount of comparisons would bring him home to her. He was gone again, and this time he didn't say how long for. She closed her eyes slowly, trying to dismiss the thought and proceed with things as planned. There were people waiting for her arrival after all.

At the very least, the fellow Keeper had high respect for her boundaries. That absolutely would not go unnoticed in her eyes. She raised an eyebrow at his feathery fanfare, still keeping enough distance between them to avoid accidental touch as she stepped up to the door. With a gentle creak, the door opened inward towards the sunlit interior. She stepped in and behind the door silently. Her ears anxiously pressed back as she hesitated to close it behind her. She felt rude for not inviting him in. It was customary to offer hospitality to a guest, but she hadn't quite fully cleaned or patched up the various work that needed to be done. The one thing she did have though, was a privacy screen that had held up fairly well against the element of time.

"It..." She hesitated as she looked back into the entry room. "It would be rude of me not to invite you in. I don't mind company as long as you limit yourself to this room. I won't be more than a moment!" She held the door open for him, gesturing shakily with an open hand to the interior.

The front room had quite a few creaky and warped floorboards. Some moss had crept in from the various gaps in the wood, but it made for a wonderful carpet. The interior had left much to be desired, at least in the entryway, but the open hallway had lead to a main sitting room that had more space than furniture. Beyond what they could see of the study, there was another room to the left that was quite spacious and shared a wall with the entryway. That was the room she had turned into her sleeping quarters. Originally it must have been a study of some sort, but Cyra decided she wanted more space for her to relax than study.

"Right, well..." She nervously fidgeted with her words. "I'll be right out." Cyra didn't give him a chance to even protest before she sped back through the hallway and snaked through the study into her bedroom.

For the archer, he didn't even notice the relatively short amount of time passing. He was leaning against the wall when he heard her coming out of her room, his ears swiveling towards her for a moment before he turned towards her, his crystal blue eyes looking her over and...

She looked good. Really good. The white robes brought out her blue hair, her eyes, accentuated her body while hiding away her upper half of her legs, the rest hidden by custom made shoes. He trailed the red hem up, over the herb pouches under her robes, and up over that tunic. He felt his smile slowly grow, into a beaming thing, gliding over that hood, the red hems, the way it made the scarf pop more and defined her outline, and he couldn't help it.

"Well, I've seen White Mage attire before...but for some reason, you make it look even better!" He pushed off from the wall, stepping towards her, but maintaining his distance as he met her gaze, noting the way her tail flicked about, ears seemed to be dealing with a phantom feeling, and her general body language seemed comfortable and yet slightly not, most likely because of him.

He gave her a disarming smile, and pointed the little feather brooch at her, and then at the floor, and then to the ceiling, offering nonchalantly, "You know, I did pick up some carpentry from my dad. If you would like, I could cut you some boards for the floor and ceiling. Get it patched up so it isn't so damp in here. The place has, as my dad would say," he dropped his voice and placed his hands on his hips, nodding with closed eyes, "'Great bones!'" He chuckled, opening his eyes and fixing her with his gaze again as he dropped his hands back down off his sides. "But seriously, if you'd like, I could help with that. Oh! And I wanted to thank you!"

He had noticed her eyes flicking to the feather, then to his hand and the blue feather there, his flicking left than right in answer to her tail's questioning pose, holding out his hand and opening it, palm up, the brooch nestled in his palm as he watched her for her reaction. "A little something for you, for letting me see your little slice of peace and inviting me in. It's for your scarf, and I think it will bring out your eyes even more."

Normally, with a gift like this, and Kaleh'a just generally being an affable Miqo'te, he would have approached and put the brooch on. But he was, as always, cognizant of how Cyra might take the intrusion, and instead just held it out for her to take if she wanted, his eyes twinkling as he watched her.

It took her a considerably longer amount of time than she expected to get changed. Between having to redress the various superficial cuts on her arms from carelessly sticking her hands into brambles, and removing the lighter layers of her working clothes, it had taken her at least ten minutes just to get undressed. Thankfully, redressing would be quite simpler. Her robes had already been laid out earlier that morning in anticipation for needing to change. She had plans to swing by Gridania anyway to check in.

As always, Cyra wore a short-sleeved tunic underneath the knee-length white robe. Hempen trousers and some custom-made shoes that did well to hide her curiously shaped feet helped keep most of her unusual features hidden. All that was left was her belt to secure her herb pouches, and other quick access belongings, and she was ready to go. She pulled her scarf a little tighter around her neck, and gently straightened out the rest of her clothes. Finally, her healing visage was complete. She wasn't much of a fan of the red trim around the cuff of the sleeves, the hood, and the hem of the robe, but it was traditional wear for the White Mages of eld.

As she was fixing her hood, she heard the creak of the floorboards just beyond the wall of her room. As most guests do, curiosity had captured Kaleh'a's mind and pressed him to seek out further information by poking around. Though it seemed he kept himself relatively civil as she heard his weight earn the floor's audible protest on his way back to the front room. She was more nervous about the fact that her bedroom was lacking a door, as its original use was more of a study than a bedroom. This place was never made to accommodate overnight stays.

With a sigh, she grabbed her staff and made her way back out to the front room. She decided against confronting him about poking around. After all, she didn't have many personal items laying out in the open. In fact, she had very little to display at all. She had only been staying there for a few weeks at that point. Cyra's tail flicked as she appeared at the end of the hallway. Her ears flicking this way and that as they readjusted how the fur sat uncomfortably on her skin. Anytime she had to pull something over her head, they would flick until satisfied.

"Right," She breathed. "Shall we?" She offered him a nervous grin to try and ease the awkward tension. As she stepped closer to the door, she noticed a flash of brilliant blue in his hand. Her eyes only remained on it for a moment as she studied the missing section from the feather in his quiver. Curious, her tail flicked out to her side in silent inquiry.

Her blush, her tail! The archer memorized that expression, the flush of her cheeks, the way her tail curled around her leg, the entire pose and expression so innocently cute as his own tail curled up behind him, his eyes trailing over her again as he watched her with those lively eyes, wondering if she knew that the expression and tail movement she had just made meant a particular kind of happiness. The kind a handsome Miqo'te might be pleased to see! Not that he would push it, no, he would never in her own house. Outside was fair game!

Still, Kaleh'a was beyond pleased to hear her accept his offer to help repair her slice of heaven, his tail swaying nice and slow as he watched her face light up with wonder at the braided feather. He met her gaze with the warmth of the sun reflected from the moon, his ears wiggling to show he had no hidden intent, and making sure she had all the room needed to pick up the brooch without having to touch him directly.

Her slow steps, the way she was so curious but hesitant, it just served to make his grin larger, knowing he had caught her interest and that she was Just the brush of her claws on his skin, and then she had it, and he got to watch all over again how she admired it. And that admiration had a warm, fuzzy feeling rising in his chest as he let out a little noise not unlike a purr.

Cyra's smile was beyond adorable, from the way her lips turned up to the body language of her tail and ears, it all just confirmed his gift had found the mark, and was even good enough to be put on right then! He watched as she fastened it to her scarf, a little snort of laughter escaping as, understandably, it went on crooked, and he gave her a small bow at her thanks.

"You're most welcome, Cyra! I'm glad you like it. And, as I thought, it really does bring out your eyes." His tail curled around to the front of his leg, flicking in a way that said he really believed it, before he glanced behind him at the door, taking a few steps to it and opening it for the owner of the cabin. "Now, shall we be off? Need anything before we go?"

Cyra was often a woman of few words. She took care in the verbal translation of her thoughts as every first draft was often quite indicative of the Keeper under her carefully crafted mask. Yet his compliment in combination with his clear visual inspection of her form and attire had created a crack in her perfect false identity. She had been flattered before, but to be this exposed by it had her face flushing.

She had a difficult relationship with her appearance. The Healer didn't even keep a mirror in her room. It was rare for her to take pride in her appearance, but with just the simple handful of words, she had considered looking over herself for any flaws. Just this once, for a fleeting moment, did she wish to see how he painted her in his world. Her ears flattened against her head, but not out of fear. Cyra couldn't identify the emotion. Even as her cheeks grew hot, and her tail curled up and around the front of her legs, she still was left with a blank mind and a basket-full of feelings.

The flash of blue in his hand brought her attention back to the present, a welcome distraction from her stricken state. Her eyes followed the brilliant color as he pointed to various surfaces in the hall, and in some slight movements her head also dipped and bobbed to follow. Her pupils expanded for a moment as it kept her attention. Still learning to keep herself under control, she had to blink a few times to refocus on his face.

"Uh, yeah... sure." She hadn't heard a damn thing he said after the compliment. Admittedly, she wasn't even sure what she was agreeing to. Cyra laughed politely with him at his impression, still unsure of what sparked her answer.

"Hmm?" The trinket in his open hand caught her attention. Her ears returning once more to their natural upright position, and her tail relaxed, flicking inquisitively at her side. "...for me?"

It was all she could get out after he suggested how it would accentuate an aspect of her appearance. These small thing absolutely chipped away at her, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. The mask was not nearly as perfect as she believed, and it was clear that she needed far more practice in it's use before she could consider it comfortable enough to keep on.

The Keeper looked up into the moonlit blues of the hunter, that same feeling still lingering. She read every inch of his face, his posture, the way his ears angled on his head, even the gentle roll of his tail as he stood with an open palm in her home. Cyra hadn't many things that she treasured. Most were lessons or, things she couldn't physically hold...but this? This was more than just a token of thanks in her eyes. The look of wonder traveled back down to the braided feather in his hand. She appreciated that he kept his distance, even as she walked forward to close the gap. Her slitted pupils wide with emotion as she delicately reached out with her clawed fingers to gently take it from his hand.

The hint of a smile that curled the corners of her lips was more than a simple, polite gesture. The unexpected gift meant more to her than she could express. She cradled it in her own hand, resting her staff in the nook of her elbow while she turned it over. Her lips parted in a little smile as she silently appreciated its craftsmanship. After joyfully inspecting it for a few quiet moments, she excitedly began fastening it to her patterned scarf. Without a mirror, it was likely to sit rather awkwardly on the garment, but she didn't care. It was a gift, and she wanted to display it proudly.

"Th-thank you..." She said sheepishly. She wasn't even sure if those words alone would be enough to tell him her appreciation for it.

Cyra would never forget this.

He was happy at how happy she was about the gift, and his ears were full at attention as she pinned it on, his eyes dropping to the scarf and--

Scars. Or one scar, he couldn't tell. But he could see it. The white scar tissue, and in that moment, he understood why she wore the scarf. Her reactions, the hesitation, the hurt, it all made sense. If someone, or something had hurt her that badly...

The kind archer wanted to reach out, to let her know that it was okay, to mend those broken pieces, and for a moment, his hand reached out as she stepped out of her home, but he pulled it back, clenching a fist as he brought it close to his chest. For a moment, he stood there, watching her as he tried to imagine what pain she had gone through, what had forced her to wear that scarf, and his ears flicked back, laying flat, as he slowly followed her, his face fallen for a moment, before he let that easy smile win out, spreading slowly as he closed the door behind him and looked for a--

"No lock!?" Kaleh'a glanced her way, then back to the door, and promptly placed both hands on his hips and turned to her fully, his tail swishing behind him in disbelief and mock anger. "That won't do! How can you call a house a home without some security?" He nodded to himself, and the feather bobbed with him as if in agreement, the archer striking out for New Gridania. "First things first! A door with a lock!"

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New Gridania was a bustling hub of commerce, transportation, and greenery, the archer strolling through the gates as he called out a hello to the Wood Wailer guard, the spearman just staring at the feather waving behind him and muttering something about "too good to be true", which Kaleh'a took as a compliment and grinned widely, heading towards the Twin Adders grand company in the back of the area, humming as he went but keeping close to his new White Mage friend, his words jovial as he said, "Well, it shouldn't be too difficult to get you in with me as a healer. And the great news is, you will likely be compensated! If not by them, then by me! Oh, and if they try to get you to sign up, don't be too surprised, they like to jump on everybody."

She had been holding up the little trinket so she could see it while it was attached to her scarf. The total disregard for the purpose of the scarf left the delicate skin of her neck exposed for a moment as she silently admired the accessory. Her relaxed posture quickly resumed it's more rigid and stoic form at his suggestion to leave. Cyra took her staff from the nook of her arm, gripping it with purpose as she readjusted the cloth around her neck. She shook her head to answer his question, unable to find her voice after a moment of such joy.

All she could do was offer a smile. With a quiet sigh, she stepped past him and back out into the mossy landscape that carpeted her home. There was no lock on the door to her domain. Living this far away from civilization meant she had little to worry about by the way of burglars or ruffians seeking to purloin her valuables. Not that she expected ne'er-do-wells to travel that far out of the way of more profitable prospects, but it was a concern when she first moved in.

He let out a little ahhhh of interest at her words, the mention of the Twin Adders knowing her and her services of interest, his eyes flicking to her out of the corner of his gaze as he tilted a head, ears wiggling lightly in curiosity. "How have I not met you before?" he mused softly, and then shrugged as if it was nothing, instead saying, "Well, I am glad that we did meet! Although, hopefully next time on better terms.

"Oh, and you are still getting some form of payment, my treat! It's..." he paused, stumbled over his words, and sighed and just went with honesty. "It's what I would have wished I had received when I first came here. And now that I have the means, I want to pay it forward!" As they kept walking he wanted to ask her about that last comment, but his nose lifted slightly, and his tail stopped swaying, drooping slightly as he smelled the iron tang to the air.

He could smell it too, the blood, the smell of death, and one that he was familiar with. It permeated a lot of his work, but not as often with human casualties. His face sobered at the realization that they were likely going to be entering an area of pain and suffering, his shoulders rolling lightly as he shifted his quiver and the feather as he took a slow, deep breath, silently praying to Menphina for the injured lives. It didn't take them long to see the injured, the number of injured members of the Twin Adders laid out on the green space in front of the headquarters, clearly already overflowing from the infirmary, and from the looks of it, it wasn't just Twin Adders there. Wood Wailers also littered the area, all bandaged at least, but most bandages were deeply stained with red, in need of changing, and the few healers that darted between moaning patients were overworked and understaffed.

He was quick to pickup his pace, jogging towards the injured, as he called out of his shoulder to Cyra, "I can redress the wounds after you heal! Let's find out where the most injured are, that way we can work from the top down. Does that sound good?"

Cyra had been to Gridania many times, but in the last few weeks she had been focused on getting her new home to a live-able state. As usual the Wood Wailers regarded her in silence, but their commentary toward her bright and sunny companion seemed less than pleasant. Though, he seemed to not mind it much. Given that they were both there on business, Cyra assumed that they perhaps were expecting someone. Maybe not her, but a healer was needed, or so she heard.

"I doubt that we will be met with much resistance. The Twin Adders know of my services, though they have not had need of me as of late." She let out an airy laugh at his comment.

"I ask for nothing in return. Only that those injured take better care to be aware of their surroundings in the future, lest they want to spend more time ailing and less time protecting." It was her only form of payment that she accepted. She wasn't doing this for the gil. She never even expected any thanks from the people she treated. She only wanted them to go on to live their meaningful lives...even if they had no clue to the chaos that went on outside of the safety of the woods.

"It wouldn't be the first time." Cyra's tone was less joyful than the previous ones. She was quick to dampen her own happiness with a single, careless thought. The healer took in a deep breath, smoothing over the the mask, minding the crack in it and moving on.

A chill ran down her spine as they moved closer to the headquarters of the Twin Adders. She could smell the blood on the air. The gentle wafts of that copper scent danced with the leaves in the wind as they walked. Injury was nothing new to her, but the smell of blood had always given her cause for temporary panic. The weight of the smell told her the severity of injury, but was still something she would learn to guess more accurately with time. For now, all she could glean was that the Blueback had really left some of their troop seriously wounded.

Kaleh'a was worried. The number of injured as he picked his way through them towards the main building the Twin Adders inhabited was too many. Far too many for a single Blue-Back to have caused. He was almost certain they had specifically said only a few injuries, some serious, others less so, but only a small number. So what had caused all the others?

He was mid-step when he felt her magic bloom behind him, turning in wonder as she concentrated and summoned aether to her staff. The glow of the focus point drew his gaze, and his ears flicked in the wind caused by it, his tail swaying as he felt how the aether reacted, changed, and shifted around them, spiraling in to her and lifting her from the ground. His eyes went wide, unsure if that was normal, his ears up at attention as he watched her float there, and the burst of warm, aether filled air that had his body feeling...invigorated was a sight to behold. His eyes tracked the many different sparkling dots, his smile growing as he watched how they fell, saw and heard how moans of pain and hurt faded into soft sighs of relief, missing her floating back down to the ground, his tail flicking about excitedly as he was reminded, once again, how incredible a White Mage could be.

He turned to her, his blue eyes picking out the exertion on her face, and he nodded in understanding, knowing that such a spell had to have cost a lot of aether, especially since it seemed to be acting over time as well. He quickly hopped up the steps towards the Adders' Nest, stopping before a smartly dressed Marshal, giving them a quick nod and tilting his head towards Cyra as he rapidly explained. "A got the blue-back, and ran across a White Mage while hunting it. She offered to help heal the injured."

He wanted to ask more, but the Marshal hardly let him, quickly waving to Cyra as he spoke rough and quick. "Good, we need as many hands as we can get. Wait out here while I see her to the infirmary."

Kaleh'a looked shocked, his gaze flicking to Cyra and then back to the Marshal, his tail agitatedly swaying behind him, smacking a passing Twin Adder spearman. "Wait here? I was planning on helping her, replacing bandages and--"

"We don't need your kind of help."

Those words had Kaleh'a bristling, his ears laying back, his tail going still, and his boots took a thudding step forward, the long blue-back feather in his quiver drooping back. "Really? I've killed your blue-back, have proof, and am now offering to help your obviously short handed healers, and you throw that in my face?" The Marshal, stubbornly, held his ground, eyes narrowing at the Miqo'te as a hand fell to the blade at his side, right up until a hand landed on his shoulder, and Grand Serpant Marshal Brookstone interjected.

"Now now, we both know we could use the help, and Kaleh'a has more than proven himself now and before." The Grand Marshal's one good eye turned to Kaleh'a, giving him a warm smile. "Forgive my subordinate's...enthusiasm in protecting our weak. He clearly has made a mistake and I will ensure personally he is reprimanded for it."

"But--sir!" The glare the man got shut him up instantly, both from Brookstone and Kaleh'a, the two blondes not giving an inch until the Marshal slunk off, and Kaleh'a let out a little sigh of relief.

"Thanks, sir." He gave the Grand Marshal a wan smile, the mirth never reaching his eyes, as the red and yellow dressed man loosed his own sigh of frustration.

"No, thank you, Kaleh'a. I'd offer more apologies, but we are truly in dire straights. I trust you and your healer are prepared?"

"As ever!" The blonde Miqo'te grinned, and he reached up to touch the feather. "I think the injured will be glad to see this too."

Brookstone laughed, and shook his head in disbelief, but agreed wholeheartedly, while waving the two forward. "Come, I'll personally escort you to the infirmary. That way there won't be anymore misunderstandings."

The Keeper was thankful that she had not spent the day spending her Aether. She very well could have chosen to train the control over her own flow, but the Twelve had made the suggestion that she do something a little more simple. At least, that was the feeling she had at the start of her busy day. She remained quiet through Kaleh'a's questions, analyzing the wounded laid out in the grass outside of the headquarters.

This is more than just a rampaging Blue-back.

She felt her normally round pupils constrict as the thought of a true battle being fought. Gridania and the Black Shroud bordered a nation that provided her with a life full of misery. If there had been a scuffle on the border, she would want to hear of it. However, far more important matters require her attention.

There wasn't time to check them all individually, not with how some had already soaked through their carefully placed bandages. She felt her heart clench in her chest with concern and worry for every life laid bare on the fields.

"I'll join you in a moment." Her hard stare at the bodies laid out in front of them was a good indicator of her intentions. She picked up the pace, nearly joining the blond Keeper in a jog as she trotted up to the center of the field.

Staff in hand, Cyra furrowed her brow as she began channeling her flow of aether into her staff. The point of focus at the top began to glow, and the air began swirling around her. Drawing on both wind and water, the light traveled through her and into her staff. At the height of the concentration, her body lifted from the earth by only a few ilms. And in an instant, the air burst with a warming wind, flecks of aether sparkling as they descended downward from the blanket of magic that covered the area. The spell concluded, and her feet once more touched the ground.

Her efforts granted her a few small beads of sweat as the magic had cost her quite a large portion of her personal well of aether. She took no more than a few seconds to begin getting to work on visually inspecting those laid out on the lawn. Most had relatively superficial injuries, maybe some broken bones, and the worst of them had some relatively deep lacerations. The magic had already begun it's work on them, slowly mending their hurts as they waited to be treated. She had plenty more mana to spare.

In her focus, she continued walking towards the interior of the Twin Adders. She knew they kept their more urgent cases farther in the actual infirmary. No doubt that was where Kaleh'a had been headed, so that's where she too would follow.

Both Kaleh'a and the Grand Marshal turned wide eyes to the healer, the venom in her voice subtle, but recognizable as Kaleh'a's tail swayed slowly behind him, a new respect for the blue haired Miqo'te as his warm smile filled his face and he gave her a nod of appreciation, a moment passing before Brookstone chuckled and rubbed his hair in embarrassment. "Perhaps it would do some good to remind theme that one of our best healers hails from the same heritage as one of our best hunters." Kaleh'a's ears flicked in agreement at the compliment, his chest puffing proudly, following the marshal towards the infirmary. All of them grew more serious as Brookstone opened the door, and the smell of death filled the air.

The coppery tang of blood and groans of pain filled the air, and Kaleh'a cast his eyes out over the room, to the cots that carried all the wounded, his smile falling as he quickly unslung his quiver, bow, and set them aside, reaching over to a small table just inside the door and grabbing a thick roll of bandages, herbs, and a few splints, listening to Cyra as he quickly nodded at her words, agreeing without hesitation as he moved into the room. "Got it, I'll let you know any I find that need immediate attention."

He was moving, kneeling beside a warrior with bandages wrapped over their eyes, gently touching his arm and slightly startling him, until Kaleh'a murmured softly, "It's alright, just a medic here. Where does it hurt?"

"L-leg..." Kaleh'a was moving to his legs quickly, pulling back the sheets covering the man, and revealing--

"Oh. Yep, that's a leg." The tibia was sticking out from the ankle, foot angled weirdly, as if twisted, and the archer eying it for a second. The wound surprisingly less bloody than he would have guessed, packed with gauze around the bone, the trained-through-trial-and-error medic slowly removed the gauze and casually said, "Well, I have good news, and bad news. The good news, it's fixable! Bad news, it's going to hurt." He didn't give a warning, suddenly pulling the foot twisting it back, the tibia snapping back into place, and the scream of the soldier as he sat straight up, then limply flopped back against the cot, only to come right back to, turn, and throw up over the side of the bed. "Sorry! Sorry I know, I know it hurts right now..." Kaleh'a was wrapping the wound, with bandages, scooting up towards the man's head and slowly helping him back onto the cot fully, gently pressing an herb to his mouth. "Here, chew, it will help the pain and keep you awake. The bone is reset, and you won't feel too much pain after this. Oh, and you should be up and walking in a few weeks if you take it easy, okay?"

The wounded soldier could only nod, chewing the herb as he leaned back against his pillow, his hand reaching out, blindly, then grabbing Kaleh'a's arm, groaning out, "Thank...you..."

To which the archer just smiled and patted the hand, smiling as he said, "Just doing what I can!"

And then he was on to the next one, after, of course, cleaning up the throw up. He didn't want to leave a mess behind for someone else.

Her sharp ears picked up every word of the Marshal.

She had already stepped past the disgruntled Adder, pausing at the threshold of the doorway when she heard the venom spat at her fellow Keeper. She had never been spoken to like that here. Seeing how they reacted to him because of his chosen profession made her think that it was because of the reputation Keeper archers had.

What if I wasn't a White Mage? Would they have treated me the same?

The thought slammed into her chest like a blade piercing her all the way to the hilt. She had half a mind to tell off the soldier's cruel opinion. The fur on her tail immediately bristled, flicking angrily to the side as she gazed daggers into the man's back. She may not have known Kaleh'a for long, but he had every right to be here as she did. He was no healer, sure, but he had the heart to be one. That was enough for her. Skills could be learned, but one had to have the courage to hold the hand of the dying and give them the hope of life whether they could be saved or not.

In her hesitation, she found that the situation had quickly come to a close. The Grand Marshall himself stepped forward to right the wrongs happening in her presence. Cyra had to bury the anger quickly. Despite his quick action, she felt like it wasn't enough to grant reprieve for her socially wounded companion. Ones' origin of birth should never be cause for discrimination regardless of the reputation others like him may have gained. He was his own person, and they would never get to know his generosity and gentle heart if they didn't give him the opportunity to show them.

Cyra took in slow, deep breaths to try and calm the bubbling anger within her. Her small hand tightened around the staff, knuckles turning white for a moment before she relaxed her grip. She couldn't afford to lose her head to this, not when there were people who needed her. Still, she couldn't help but feel the need to throw in her thoughts on the matter.

"You spoil us, ser." The healer pressed her lips together into a tight smile. "Perhaps there are some among you that need to be reminded that I, too am a Keeper?" The disgust in her tone was subtle.

As much as she disliked touch, or even proximity she gave Kaleh'a a gentle pat on the shoulder, making sure that she touched only fabric. There was no telling what kind of emotions would bleed into him if she had managed to touch skin. He didn't need that mixed in with his own turmoil. She gave him a knowing look, the flick of her ears quite indicative of her displeasure with his treatment.

I can be angry about it later. These people need my help.

With another tandem flick of her long ears, she tucked the emotion away to deal with after the worst had passed. It didn't take long for her to change the target of her focus. The smell had thickened as they grew closer to their destination. Cyra had been used to the smell. This wasn't the first time she had entered a room full of the gravely injured, but she guessed it might have been his.

Hesitation could not be afforded. Knowing that staying on task would be difficult with what laid ahead of them. She needed to give him something to do, no matter how menial it may be. She did recall him say that he had some knowledge for field dressings, maybe she could put that to use in making this easier for the both of them.

"You said you know how to administer field care? I need you to do this for me." Her words came out calm, but with that tense urgency one needed when wielding the power of granting life in their hands.

"Stabilize the ones who can wait five minutes before I see them. Staunch bleeding, set bones, whatever you can do for them...do it. Keep them alive until I can take over." She could hear the cries of pain, she could hear the labored breaths of those with more than just their foot beyond the door to death. Cyra's eyebrows knitted together with the determination to save every single one of them was strong. IT didn't matter how much Aether she used, she would save them.

He was moving fast, quick, small conversations when warranted, taking care of resetting bones, wrapping injuries, even picking up a needle to sew together the worse cuts or holes. His hands were bloody after almost every patient, and someone, seeing the work he was doing, had begun to bring him bowls of water. He had graciously accepted, washing his hands between patients, using fresh water and bandages to wipe away blood from open wounds, all the while his easy smile never leaving his face, even as heat pressed in from the bodies, the groans of pain sometimes rose to new levels, and his fingers grew tired from stitching and wrapping.

He couldn't explain it in simple words, but this was something he was used to.

Travelling alone, injuries happened. And without a doctor or healer nearby, he had to take care of himself. He had learned from necessity the skills he used, book knowledge only getting him so far. But now, here, when it wasn't him, he felt less sure, and more connected to the injured than usual. It didn't slow him, but he showed a bit more compassion than he normally would, and the many thank you's he received was enough to keep him driving to help the next.

By the time the more minor injuries were taken care of, he was exhausted, mentally and physically, the last bowl of bloody water beside him as his hands dripped into them, finally taking up a towel and drying them, sitting back on a stool and letting out a deep breath, head pressed to the wall behind him as his ears stood flicked forward, keeping them from being crushed under his skull. He listened, thought, considered, remembering what he had seen, how he had watched Cyra heal a disembowelment, knit together flesh and bones like it was nothing, her magic incredible. She had done it again and again, and he could only imagine that the standing healer was even more tired than he was.

He turned his gaze up towards her, tilting his head to look, bearing with rolling onto his sensitive ear as his gaze flicked up and down her white garments, the rolled up sleeves, marveling at how when her aether waned, she had chosen to get her hands dirty too. He watched her standing there, pale, drained, but proud, and his tail flicked with admiration, before he rose slowly and moved to stand beside her, looking out over the injured, almost all stable enough to recover.

Slowly, he pointed, to a man he stitched up a hold through his shoulder, murmuring, "Arrow." Then to another, a ragged hole in his stomach, thinner on the back than the front. "Spear." And another, a small, profusely bleeding hole that had taken packing, pressure, and finally a few stitches. "Bullet." His hand dropped, and he looked over them all again, remembering the faces of those he had helped, their complaints, and now their bandaged bodies, breathing in slowly and letting his breath hiss through his nose. "This wasn't a Blue-Back attack..."

His eyes fell to the feather in his quiver, standing tall against the back wall, and he let his gaze travel along it, before his blue eyed gaze found hers. "Feels kind of...pointless to have hunted it down now when I could have--should have--helped with whatever battle they were in."

There was more to this than just a savage attack by a territorial beast. Some of the wounded had the brutality of a battle between men, some could have been passed off as a rampant pack...but all of them were far worse for wear. It was just a quick observation, and she made a note to speak to the Grand Marshall about it later. Healers of all skill level and profession had come to assist in the efforts, and the way they frantically flitted around the room was telling of the amount Cyra estimated they lost when returning home.

Her attention had been commanded by a weakly moaning man in the far back of the infirmary. The blanket of red that coated him and those surrounding him called to her for assistance. In a moment she was at the bedside, taking in all the gore. She only had one spell that could help, but there was a chance she might need it before long. Cyra needed to make her judgement call quickly, or the disemboweled man would surely die. She took a second to glance around the room, taking in the severity of all of the injuries with a single look.

It can be done. She reassured herself. The healer bid the others step back. She didn't want a single risk of any ounce missing her target. The stone on the staff glowed bright for a moment, magic trailed into her opened hand. The glowing ball flickered for a moment, before it burst, spinning around the dying man and disappearing into him. Benediction was one hell of a life-saver. But it's potency had to be limited due to it's incredibly high cost. Cyra had trained for this, working towards expanding her already deep well of Aether. If she was going to save everyone she could, she needed an ocean of energy housed within. The umbrella healing wind that she had cast earlier had taken just as much as this single target, and just like that she had felt the strain already.

Not all could be fully mended, but most would be brought back from the brink. If she couldn't handle the aetheric load, she had knowledge that could at least help aid in their care. The snap of a bone being shifted back into place behind her warranted a flick of the ear in it's direction. The lurch of a stomach, and the patient getting sick from the pain and the sensation caught her attention for only a second. She needed to watch carefully as her current patient's wounds had begun healing at a rapid pace. Not everything was back to normal for him, though at the very least his intestines no longer sat draped along his sides. This was manageable for the others there. She needed to move on to the next.

The work was hard, as it always was. It was hard to see people suffering at the hands of others. Some had lost fingers. A man or two missing an eye that she could not replace. All she could do was seal the wound to prevent infection. Blood loss was the most widely presented problem across the board, and all she could do was seal up a few here and there before having to rely on bandages, salves, and ointments to help with stitches and burns.

It had taken hours to get through them all. Most were not fully stable, but a majority of them would live through this. If infection didn't take them, they would continue on with their lives.

At the end of it all, Cyra had stood at the front of the room. Observing for any more urgent matters that needed to be cared for as the nurses kept up their hard work. At some point the healer had put up her staff, electing to roll up her sleeves and help without the aid of her waning Aether. She had used enough. Her already grey skin had paled in the display of effort that she had worn proudly on her face. Another job well done, but still...their suffering had been brought on by something more complex than a rampaging flock of ziz.

He chuckled at her intonation of the Twelve, his tail flicking good naturedly as he replied with, "Menphina has yet to fail me." His ears flicked, then settled, as he shifted slightly on his feet, leaning absently towards her, not touching her, but just close enough that he noticed, and shifted the other way on his feet, crossing his arms as he tilted his head. "I doubt they attacked unprovoked, more likely defended. There was no general call to arms at least... I just wonder where was attacked."

He rolled his shoulders, reaching up and adjusting his cap, then pulling it off, shaking his head like a dog as he let his hair fall back into place, the white tips gleaming until he pulled back on the cap, ears flicking and making it sure it rested just above them, not touching as he observed the injured, finally turning to Cyra fully, mouth open to say something...

His eyes flicked to her hands, the way they clenched, and he fell silent, watching for a moment as he let her go through...whatever she was going through. He didn't know her history, but something about this attack had made her uncomfortable, and he half wanted to reach out and touch her shoulder, comfort her, but he held back, knowing from the short time he had spent with her, it wouldn't be well received. He waited for her to calm before he spoke, his voice soft as he nodded to the door. "Come on, let's get some fresh air. We've done all we can here. And I can only imagine how exhausted you are."

He reached out, opening the door to the infirmary, opening it for her and holding it, as he gave her a soft smile.

Cyra's ear rotated toward the other Keeper who moved to stand at her side. Her careful eyes followed the direction his finger pointed her in. The way his hands shook was understandable. This job wasn't for everyone. It was messy. It was painful, and not every effort made would result in a life saved. These Adders were the lucky ones. Still, there was something the Grand Marshal hadn't told them before coming in to aid the urgently injured. It didn't sit right with her.

She let out a soft hum in acknowledgement of his statement. Observant as she would have expected a hunter to be. Yet, as he looked back at her, she felt the guilt on his words.

"Pray that the Twelve keep you safe from harm. The ones here are only lucky enough to have made it home." Her tone was even, the barest of anger peeking through as the emotion hung on her lips. "I hope the Grand Marshall understands the cost. And I hope that for his sake, this was not anything other than a defensive effort."

She couldn't stop her shaking hands from clenching at her sides, sharp nails poking at the skin but not breaking it. Cyra was not opposed to aiding the Adders in their defensive efforts if they needed more mages on the field, but she would not assist in an offensive strike. She knew the kind of destruction the Garleans were capable of. She had been part of it at some point, regretfully.

He was silent as she reached out and grabbed her staff, the conduit that focused her healing power seeming to relax her at least slightly, the Miqo'te archer following her as she exited the room, his mind on the injured, and the questions he had for the Grand Marshal. Questions, he realized, he likely would not get answers to. His brow furrowed for a moment, his eyes stormy blue, then fading away, the consternation giving way to concern for the blue haired Keeper, knowing that the injuries and their cause weighed heavier on her than he.

Although clearly it was taking a bit of a toll on him too, as he remembered he had left his bow and quiver with that prized feather back in the room, turning, sneaking back, slipping through the door, grabbing his stuff, and slipping out with a mouthed apology to a healer, slipping back up behind Cyra as he fell into step comfortably behind her. He was perfectly fine giving her time to process her thoughts, her feelings, let his own wash on through him, which all resulted in him just feeling more tired.

Clearly though, Cyra had a bit of fight left in her. Those white knuckles gripping her staff, finally starting to relax, suggested she was still wrapped up in her thoughts when they reached that open area again, where she had originally cast her spell, the archer stopping and leaning heavily against a support pole and letting out a groan, the feather reminding him of its presence by slowly tilting forward, the archer lifting weary hands and pulling it from the quiver and turning towards the counters behind him. He might as well get paid for the hunt, but Cyra's voice stopped him, his gaze turning to her in full as he focused on her pinched brow.

So she does have an opinion of these conflicts, he thought with mild interest. Her earlier comment on not helping an attacking force, only a defending one, was interesting to the hunter. The notion of not taking the fight to your enemy, or target, was foreign to him. To him, the first shot was the decider. It had to be. So why not fire it first? It certainly was not the same in a war, but this skirmish...how long could Gridania suffer casualties like that without some show of force?

"You never have to apologize to me for how you feel, Cyra." He gave her a soft smile, nodding his head to her. "I don't hold your concern or feelings against you. Frankly I would be slightly more concerned if you had no reaction!" He chuckled lightly and shifted the feather in his hands, tilting his head as he walked towards the Twin Adders levemete. "Your concern for them shows your heart, and suits one called to heal! Oh, and if they ever ask me to head to that area, I will be sure to not add another injured soldier to your burden."

It took him only a moment with the levemete to get his payment, handing over the feather as proof, the palm sized bag of Gil he received enough to pay for his room and food for a month, securing that need quickly enough. Which left what he had already earned, a considerable amount, free for him to use for other projects. Like purchasing wood, logs and planks, for the dilapidated house he had promised to help repair. Turning, his tail flicked softly, and his eyes dropped to her scarf, to the little blue feather charm there, and he smiled warmly. The skirmishes are getting worse, he thought, but at least...there is a little bit of joy still left here.

It took the gentle tone of Kaleh'a's voice to bring her back to the present. Her sideways glance at the hunter a quiet mark of acknowledgement at his suggestion. She released her painfully clenched hands, feeling the knuckles creak with overuse and strain. Cyra rubbed her hands together like she had been washing blood from her own stained hands. It was with a quiet sigh that she reached out for her staff that had leaned up against the wall. The familiar wood of her conduit felt like a home away from home in her hand.

Delicate, raw fingers wrapped around it gingerly to avoid the pain in her own hands from the work she had done. It was satisfying work, but this had left a sour taste in her mouth. This was not an accident, like she usually saw, or an illness that she spent many nights hand-brewing potions, tinctures, and other treatments to aid in recover. This was a slaughter.

The healer was eerily quiet as she exited the Twin Adder's Infirmary. She could tell by her fellow Keepers' concern that the unspoken questions had been ever present on their mind as they worked to aid the injured soldiers. She wanted nothing more to ignore the gnawing dread in the back of her mind. Now standing under the pluming fire of the evening sun, she stopped right outside of the entrance. She needed a moment to calm herself before she could even speak. This wasn't Kaleh'a's fault, and Cyra needed to curb her anger before it became an outburst without warrant.

They didn't have all the answers. Those wounds could have easily been from the hostile Ixal tribes in the area, or even a sudden attack by multiple different groups of the Shroud's dangerous flora and fauna. There were just too many variables, and without hard evidence or warning from the authorities that be, she needed to let go of the emotions that crowded her heart. The grip on her staff relaxed, her knuckles no longer blanched white with her palpable rage. Her shoulders eased into a more comfortable posture, and the lightly crinkled skin around her nose relaxed as she willed herself to let the feeling pass.

"Apologies." It was all she could say in response to her sudden change of behavior. They had only just met, and of course he hadn't needed to see her in such a violent expression. "The Grand Marshall knows my feelings about these conflicts. Not that my opinion matters, and it shouldn't, but I worry for the well being of those young men and women they keep sending to contested territory." She pinched the bridge of her nose, careful not to poke herself in the face with her own claws.

He had barely made it back to her when he noticed her agitation, the archer turning his blue eyes to her as he gave her a once over out of concern. Had the healing taken out too much from her? Was she sick, feeling down? His tail picked up her agitation, flicking in concern, no clue that she had heard his brief conversation as his ears angled up at attention.

He was just about to say something, to ask if she needed rest, when she spoke first, and left him thoroughly confused. Going? Going where? He raises an eyebrow, as if to ask clarification, until it clicked, and his eyes widened. "Wait, you could hear that!?" He gave a surprised look, staring at her ears, then over where he had been standing, scratching his head as he tried to imagine hearing that--she was a Miqo'te. He was an idiot. Of course she could have heard! He shook his head, dismissing his thought and question, as he thought about taking him with her.

It wasn't a good idea. He could move faster on his own, and not have to look over his shoulder to make sure she could keep up, and was hidden well enough to not get spotted. It would make it harder, infinitely so, and he lifted his gaze to suggest that maybe she shouldn't...come...with...

She was meeting his gaze. Holding it. There was no hesitation, just pure determination, disgust in her voice, and she kept holding his gaze even as she shivered in discomfort. He could see how her light fur stood up on end, how this was important enough to make him see how important this was to her. Even as her gaze dropped, his respect for her had risen, to the point that he had already made up his mind, his arms crossing across his chest, nodding to her softly.

"Alright, but, I need you to promise me a few things." He lifted his hand, holding up three fingers, wiggling his ring finger first. "If I say get down, you get down." His ring finger drops down, index finger wiggling next. "If I say retreat, we retreat." And finally, his index finger fell, and his pointer finger wiggled. "And last, we do not engage anyone or thing unless we cannot avoid it." He watched her for a moment, and then sighed softly, already tired, and knowing that what they did next would just make him more tired. "I don't understand why you want to go, but I can see it is important. And I know you can look after yourself, I'm not patronizing you with those rules. It's just..."

For a moment, he fell silent, glancing down, and then lifting his eyes again with a hint of hesitation and concern. "I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you."

Cyra's expression softened at his vow, regardless of how serious he might have been, she wasn't so sure of it. He seemed too carefree to really take it to heart. The thought was dismissed with the flick of an ear. She closed her eyes, listening to the gentle breeze that blew through the city, the gentle crunch of booted feet over fallen leaves and dirt. She took in a deep breath, feeling the air fill her lungs, calm her heart, and fill her mind with a temporary calm.

Her ear rotated curiously in his direction when she heard his footsteps recede from her side. Curious, her floral gaze opened to trail after that blond flash of tail as it moved back into the bustling headquarters of the Twin Adders. It was faint, but from what she could tell, a passing soldier had just...openly told the hunter of where the conflict had happened.

She felt her heart beat pick up in her chest. Pupils flexed momentarily into thin slits at the thought of investigating the battlefield. Larkscall wasn't a heavily contested area, but still the numbers didn't feel right for her. The level of injured had probably been a good indicator of the bodies left to rot and feed the forest. If they had any luck, there would still be Garleans scavenging the field for their lost technology.

"We're going."

That was all she said. It was firm, it held intent and disgust in its melody. Her hard stare locked on his for the first time. Cyra did not enjoy eye contact, but this was serious enough to warrant that connection. An uncomfortable shiver set her fur bristling for a moment. She broke the connection, looking back to the busy soldiers behind them.

"Just the two of us...we can go unseen."

Was she...was she laughing? He couldn't tell, if she was, she stifled it well, and he could only give her a bemused look, his head tilting to look at her with a bit of confusion, and concern. If she wasn't taking him serious, she could end up in serious trouble. He was beginning to think bringing her along was a poor choice. At least, until she turned and focused on him fully. Thankfully, she at least seemed to have listened now, and to have accepted his advice. Her at attention ears, focused gaze, and the worry behind her eyes seemed to confirm she was ready.

And then she huffed at him, tail flicking, and his own flicked up in disbelief, his eyes going wide as he let out a huff of his own, eyebrows raising as she lifted three fingers too, curling her fingers down as she declared his guidelines as done. He gave her a look that said I'm going to regret this, before he turned with a sigh and began to make his way towards the central plaza of New Gridania, his steps slow so they could still talk.

Surprisingly, she seemed to have read his mind, his question not even asked before she answered it, his ears twitching at the mention of the Elementals, the protection they offered, and the disbalance of aether that a fight would have caused. He hadn't considered that, he would be ashamed to admit, the aether aspect of life and death a little different than he was used to. Usually it was just the bodies he worried about, but it made sense that if a large amount in one place died, there would be a large release of aether.

"I...actually hadn't thought of that," he admitted to her. "I was more concerned about blood or rotting flesh. The aethereal is newer to me than the physical." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, and asked her with a curious glance. "So what do you do to balance the aether?" Although he did laugh at her mention of a bond with the Elementals. "No, no bond, just one with Menphina!"

They were close to his destination, pointing up to the large, blue, glowing crystal that hovered and spun in the center of New Gridania. All around it, people bustled, and between them, others appeared out of thin air, a flash of aether, a loud hum, and suddenly, there they were. He had used the aetheryte to travel before, even if it did upset his stomach slightly, and for their mission, it made the most sense to take it to get closer. No reason to trek through hostile forest if you didn't have to. "Quickest route to our destination. You good to travel yet?"

Cyra's eyes darted to his hand, watching as he held up his fingers. As for the reasons that followed, she had to stifle an amused chuckle.

I'm perfectly capable of handling myself. I don't have a need for such instruction...

The thought trailed off when she realized that he is not familiar with her. The past that she had kept such a secret from everyone needed to be kept in that dark. Though, it would be hard to feign the knowledge she does have of covert activities...after all, it was what she had been trained to do.

"I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you."

The healer had heard those words before...but from someone else. Her ears rotated forward, completely focused on the Miqo'te that stood beside her. She turned to face him this time, taking in the worry that furrowed his brow and brought a frown upon his normally cheerful visage. She was quiet for a moment, weighing the gravity that came with his words.

You barely know me and yet...you already care this much? Gods, I can feel Bryn laughing at me. He'd make some joke about how once you get past my stony exterior I'm a pretty personable Miqo'te...

She let out an amused huff through her nostrils, tail flicking out to the side in conclusion to her thoughts. The hard expression she had donned herself softened into a determined smile as she held up three fingers of her own.

"Done, done, aaaand....done." As she spoke, each word followed the curl of a finger into her own palm. Letting her hand fall back to her side, she remained quiet for a moment as she realized he might need her reason for wanting to go should that be the final fact he needed before setting off. She needed to make sure it made sense, and what better way to do that than tell a half-truth?

"As you know, the Elementals have granted protection to the peoples living under the Shroud's brilliant canopy for ages. The aftermath of conflict, regardless of what side started it will have devastating effects on the balance of aether in those areas. You'll need someone skilled at calming the tainted energy if you want to pass through without a fight." Cyra put her hand on her hip. "Unless, you've got some unspoken bond with the Elementals I don't know about, do you?" She teased.

That should be enough to satisfy as an answer. At least...that's what she had hoped.

He took the moment of her silence to look her over again, his eyes catching hers as he ran through everything he knew of White Mages. It was...shockingly little, besides being able to heal in and out of combat. Other than that, he had to take her word on what she could do, what she would do, and being the man he was, he trusted her. Why wouldn't he? She had proven he was able to handle to herself, and he would continue to believe she could until he was proven otherwise.

His eyebrow lifted at the idea of her using herself as a conduit, wondering what that was like. His eyes widened at the mention of things dying and releasing aether, mouthing softly, *Everything?* The number of animals he alone had hunted... Suddenly it was clicking, why the things his people did, wanton hunting, damaged more than just the wildlife population. He shuddered, and he silently went through the animals he had hunted, and wondered if maybe, the little prayer he had given each was enough to soothe the aether released.

He had a feeling it was not.

He could faintly hear the humming aetheryte, his ears flicking towards it, before he turned towards it fully. He didn't mind the quick transportation, the shift of aether as it happened, but he did wonder if she preferred a different travel method. Of course, for their mission it did not matter. Getting close was even more important than preferred methods of travel.

"Hawthorne Hut?" She would know what the question meant, that it was an aetheryte location, and the closest to the wall. It was the perfect place to land and then strike out on foot. He smiled, and then placed his hand on the aetheryte, grinning as he said. "I'll see you there!"

And with a loud thrum, he disappeared from the corporeal world and entered the life stream.

Aether travel was so interesting to the archer, the cocoon of aether that surrounded him and sent him hurtling towards his destination. It was a calming, split couple of seconds, before his boots were back on solid ground, and he looked around at the quaint area that was Hawthorne's Hut, his eyes glittering with pleasure to be back in the forest. At least, until he noticed the mood in the air felt...somber.

Based on the genuine color of surprise that painted his face, Cyra felt it was appropriate to assume he had fully accepted her half-truth without question. She considered herself lucky that he hadn't the deeper knowledge of the workings of the Elementals or the secondary roles of White Mages in the Shroud. As the Elder Seedseer and her padjal brethren had made sure she understood quite early on, keeping the balance of aether in their beloved forest was as important as saving lives. Then again, his lack of understanding should have clicked sooner considering how few White Mages had actually attuned to a soul stone. Cyra had not been a padjal, but she assisted in their duties around the Shroud.

"Well, considering I've just spent most of mine, I would have to use myself as a conduit to disperse throughout the rest of the forest. When living things die, all of their stored aether spills out into the area around them." Her eyes glanced at the inquisitive flick of his ears. "An overabundance of death in a single area can lead to a gross imbalance which can taint the land. It's dangerous to leave it as is, but I'm sure that the Adders will be sending out a crew to help with the clean-up. But with so many injured...I can't just return home and wait to be summoned. I'm here now and I'm still needed."

The glass harmony of the energy that thrummed from the aetheryte was a sound she didn't often hear. Cyra typically preferred to travel on foot as it gave her more time of silent contemplation without the interruption of strangers giving her idle greetings in passing. Despite the fact that she knew she needed to spend more time among people, no amount spent would change the idea that she just had nothing to relate to with the general body of citizens. Her history had left her an outcast and none of them even knew. Still, she wore the mask and kept that persona of the friendly, but busy, healer that spent more time in her books than around people.

Cyra couldn't help but grin in amusement at his question. Considering the idle thoughts of her social status as a self-appointed outcast meant that he too had no idea of the strength of her will. Sure she had just spent quite a majority of her Aether in aiding the wounded Twin Adders, but that was nothing compared to what she was capable of. Having nearly emptied her own well of energy, aiding in the rebalance of the devastation would at least provide with some return to her dwindling supply. But it also gave her the chance to provide some sort of defense should they need it.

"Lead on." She gestured out towards the plaza.