RP:Do you like muffins?

Location: Sage Forest

Summary: As offered, the Silver Enigma escorts the rogue wolf and the afflicted maiden off the summit and into Sage forest, where they approach a cabin that Krice’s companion healer, ‘Taly’, was working hard to make into a temporary home.

[ Part 5/5 ]

Sage Forest

Krice continued east along the Pass and then north through Sage, Loravelle’s silence keeping him on track to their original destination. He slowed to a brisk walk and released a quiet huff, the only sound denoting his expenditure of energy to travel down here - and so fast. Soon through the trees, nestled in a copse, stood a modest cabin built of various woods. It was secure and solid despite its stature, serving the purpose of temporary home for the warrior and his mate. After a final glance toward Loravelle and Leoxander, he stepped up to the door and gave a two-knock announcement, gilded eyes eagerly awaiting sight of the woman within. A quick once-over would show her that he bore no injury, only a little tiredness from the events of the last month or so, coupled with the swift journey down the mountain. As soon as she pulled open the door, Krice would reach in for one of Talyara's hands to touch her, and to keep her close as he revealed the visitors he has brought with him. A large golden wolf, and a human woman secured to his furry back. She looked worse for wear, having endured Frostmaw's chill probably longer than she should have. " Don't be afraid," he said to his companion, voice gentle. "He's a lycan. His girl is unwell." He spoke in such a way as to leave room for Talyara to decline to assist, though he knew that she would not.

The cabin wasn’t nearly so large (or as cozy) as the one that was destroyed in Frostmaw. It lacked the lived in feel that most homes acquire after several years of memories. It was to be a temporary home for the witch and the warrior while they figured out where to set up house now that Frostmaw was in a state of disrepair thanks to the primordial Xicotl and his legions of thrawls that nearly destroyed the war city and Lithrydel as a whole. After being destroyed thrice, Taly felt it was divine intervention that she found a new residence. Being the regular kitchen witch that she was, not having a stock of food on hand made her antsy, so the last several days were dedicated to the domesticities of replenishing that which made her feel safe and secure. Herbs hung from a ceiling beam to dry for both cooking seasonings as well as medicinal. Glass jars of flour, rice, oil, and other shelf stable foodstuffs and ingredients lined the small table adjacent to the kitchen. A roast had been simmering with potatoes and vegetables all day, enveloping not only the cabin, but Talyara herself with the savory aroma of comfort food. The two knock greeting on the front door drew her attention from her current project–apple pastries–and she wiped her hand on a teatowel before moving to answer the door. Naturally, her eyes went to the warrior first, a cursory glance to make sure there were no new injuries. She smiled softly, a smudge of flour marring her left cheek. She looked past the enigmatic swordsman to the golden wolf and the companion on his back. She wasn’t frightened–she knew that Krice would never bring harm her way. Rather, her expression was one of confusion. As Krice took her hand and explained the predicament, a small frown tugged on the corners of her lips, but she immediately stepped aside allowing everyone to enter. “What happened?” she asked to the room at large, leading the group into the modest living space and gesturing towards a stiff couch. It wasn’t the most comfortable but it would suit their needs.

Leoxander‘s ribs moved under that thick layer of tawny fur for heavy breaths as they finally came to the cabin, keeping a fair distance from Krice as to not startle anyone inside if… when the door opened. Gold-bled eyes fixed upon that barrier, silently willing it to move and the healer to appear. He didn’t appear to be any sort of natural forest creature, despite being on four limbs. The front of which were more shaped as arms with digits like coated clawed fingers, his back feet elongated to make ‘ankles’ that digitigrade bend. Ears tufted at the tips like a bobcat flicked and swiveled at the sound of Krice’s explanation, his skull twisting to try to nudge Lora’s hand or shoulder with his lupine nose, anxiously checking in on the woman strapped to his back. Leo wasn’t too confident about following the pair inside. Although his size had increased, he still had something of a lanky structure swallowed up by fur and could probably squeeze inside the cabin, but the phrase ‘a bull in a china shop’ might come to mind. His eyes ticked back and forth from Talyara to Krice, and back again, a few initial steps at least bringing him to the door stoop so that the warrior might assist in unbinding tethers, or making certain Loravelle didn’t slide off his back into the dirt if he clawed or snapped the lines. Nervous, anxious, quiet with ears pinning back for just that reason, his muzzle and gaze followed the book keeper once she was off his spine and in range to search over with his worried and frustrated stare.

Loravelle may have been freezing cold earlier, but now that they're in Sage that change in temperature is providing her some much-needed warmth. No more shivering. Despite her discomfort, confusion and most likely illness from being out in Frostmaw for too long, the important thing is that she's survived it. Realizing now that they've come to a stop, her head slowly lifts from golden fur, and her grey eyes slowly blink while she tries to make sense of where she is and what exactly is going on. She's still tied to Leo's back..? Lora fidgets in some feeble effort to free herself from those bindings so she can presumably be lifted off of his back or roll off into a heap on the ground beside him. She's weak, but if she has someone to lean on the girl could walk a little on some unsteady feet if the decision is made to not carry her inside the cabin. Her eyes try their best to take in her new and unfamiliar surroundings from wherever she happens to be placed, but hardly any of it seems to register. Floaty might be the best way to describe how her mind feels right now. Light-headed and floaty. Where's Leo...? The sound of a woman's voice has Lora's head turn a little toward it. Her response is a sneeze, followed by a soft word. “Frostmaw.” Frostmaw happened, though for the witch and warrior that might mean something far more severe than Lora simply being out in the cold for too long.

Krice released Talyara's hand once she took in sight of the two strangers. At her invitation for them to enter, he glanced over to see if Leoxander would shift or try to manoeuvre his lanky bulk through the door frame. He opted for a third, coming up to the door where he paused for Krice. The warrior needed little communication to know his next task - to free Loravelle from the securing ropes that had been wrapped around her for travel. As Krice slid a hand under her thoracic and drew her from Leoxander’s furry back with his other hand on one of hers, he answered his companion, " Mostly the cold of Frostmaw.” The warrior was silent then, looking to Loravelle herself to explain the symptoms she was feeling. 'Frostmaw' wasn't a symptom per se but Talyara would be able to investigate medically and fill in the gaps. He would keep his hands nearby until Loravelle had been seated inside on the couch, unsure of her ability to stand under her own power at present; he certainly would not let her crumple to the floor. If she needed extra support, he'd wrap and arm around her to aid her. Once she was at no risk of falling, the warrior moved for the door and stooped to retrieve the rope from the porch. He began to loop it with his elbow, crimson eyes passing a brief glance across the canine eyes nearby. He didn't need to worry too much; Loravelle was being seen by a compassionate, able healer, but the warrior understood. With the rope looped, Krice tried for an alleviating joke - spoken with zero comedic inflection - and held out his free hand to the wolf. " Chin scratch?"

Talyara offered Loravelle a kind smile should she look her way upon entering the cabin. “I’m Taly and you’re in Sage now,” she offered as a greeting and would immediately begin to bundle up the woman in more blankets to leach out whatever cold continued to seep through her frame once she was seated upon the couch. “Do you like tea?” It may seem a silly treatment for a Frostmaw chill and resulting sickness, but the witch’s mother had instilled in her the belief that all healing was best started with a cup of tea. If the woman agreed to a warming brew, Taly would make sure she was securely sitting on the couch before moving to the kitchen to put a kettle on the fire before retreating towards the back of the cabin presumably to a bedroom. She was quick, though, and returned with a normal looking handbag; however, Taly was reaching in so deeply she was up to her elbow, indicating the bag was clearly enchanted. The witch perched herself on an ottoman across from Lora and smiled apologetically. “It’s my apothecary. With having to leave home without any notice, I just kind of threw things in here haphazardly.” One by one, Taly began to pull out vials and small glass pots and dark dropper bottles one by one, glancing at the contents and shaking her head before discarding them on the couch beside the woman. “You look flushed,” Talyara commented, still fishing around in her bag, pausing for a moment to extend her hand out to Lora. “May I?” she wanted to ask permission for physical contact, even if this was a healing matter.

Leo had a hand-shaped paw on the stoop to follow them inside with his eyes, at least. Not blocking the entryway but determined to keep watch while Lora was seated and settled. His skull tilted to look passed Krice at first while he wound up the rope on the bend of his arm, though his attempt to lighten the weight of the situation brought a flat look from the rogue turned hybrid beast. Nothing near a glare; the Silver Enigma had done him a favor he might never be able to repay, but to the very least he had earned the pirate’s respect and gratitude. There wasn’t much he could do beyond pace, and after a nudge of snout to hand as he turned away, he did just that for a minute or two, checking glances back at the open door of the cabin. Leo wasn’t in the poor condition his fiance was, but he was exhausted. He didn’t know if he had the strength to resume a proper (...sort of) form again so soon, but he had to try. Expanding his torso for a few deep breaths, the wolf dropped his head and shut away his nearly metallic eyes, digging his clawed fingers into the leaves and soil before he began to shake much like Loravelle had in the cold. Talyara’s tone was muffled by the firm press of large ears and the sound he tried to smother in his chest was a groan, not a growl, of discomfort. For as quickly as he had managed to shift in the icy mountains out of desperation and necessity, it was obvious that Leo was struggling to reverse the change. Painstakingly slow, countless spines of coarse brown and blonde hairs started to retract and shed away, the stress and effort of the attempt dusting the ground with more fur than usual, until his sun browned complexion riddled with tattoos started to show through and his bones created that sickening chorus of cracks and snaps to reshape his body to fit in tightened skin. He’d still be trembling from fatigue as he fought to keep himself up on hands and knees, panted breaths betraying a coughed noise of relief like someone surfacing from being underwater too long. The only thing even partly clothing him would be the pants that had torn unevenly, one leg ripped at the knee while the other was shredded to his shin, like the Captain had survived a shark attack. Trying desperately to catch his breath, it would be a moment before he found the will to push himself up onto bare feet.

Loravelle is gradually getting a better grasp on where she is and what must have happened as Krice guides her to a seat on the couch. “T-thank you,” she manages to mutter to him. No more visits to Frostmaw for her for a while, she silently declares to herself. They're in Sage? Her brows raise a little at that realization. “H-hello Taly. I'm Lora,” she stammers shyly, then immediately nods afterward at the offer for tea. She loved tea. “Please.” Once Taly departs, she looks down at her gloved hands. All this trouble over her being out in the snow for too long. She looks to the door out of the cabin upon Taly's return, partly to save herself even more confusion at the sight of her arm disappearing in that enchanted bag, and partly in hope to glimpse Leo, wherever he may be. The sight of him is enough to produce a tired smile, though she wished he was closer. This woman must be a healer, which is so comforting. She's in good hands. With her father being a healer that tended to Lora throughout the majority of her fairly sickly childhood, she'll be as quick as she can be in her state to comply with whatever Taly required of her. Lora returns her attention back to the witch, frowning a little at her observation. Looking flushed probably meant she's fallen ill... Forcing down a grimace at the thought, she nods slowly to Taly as her hand extends out toward her. “Yes,” she tries to keep talking, hoping her words are helpful. “I think I was coughing and sneezing...I d-don't remember.” That noise outside of Leo shifting back, albeit faint, it's a familiar enough noise to make her frown. Is he alright?

Krice 's focus never deviated from Talyara for long. He knew Leoxander was in no mood for jokes, hence the flat stare he received was met with an equally flat one, lacking insult. After the wolf's snout pushed at his hand, the warrior lowered it to his side and turned to face his companion and Loravelle, his eyes lingering on the former before he leaned over to place the rolled rope on a nearby hall table. The warrior was silent when he straightened to find Leoxander a little further away. He wasn't obscuring the line of sight but he did take up a good chunk of door space by virtue of his size. He could hear Talyara and Loravelle talking–it was good to see that the bookworm had come a bit more to her senses, likely in part due to the warmer climate of Sage. Krice glanced toward Talyara again, almost as if she might disappear if he missed a self-enforced clockwork acknowledgment of her. The cracking of bone and groaning of discomfort drew his focus outside again, to spy Leoxander suffering through a particularly laborious transformation back to human–though his experience with lycanthropic shifts was minimal, so maybe the labor was normal. Leoxander lay outside waiting to gain strength enough to stand, but it wouldn't be long before Krice was standing closer with a throw blanket he'd grabbed from the couch armrest, just inside the wolf's human reach. If he wanted, Leo could take the blanket for some modesty. Regardless, the enigmatic swordsman would offer a hand once he showed signs that he was ready to move. Devotion to one's partner was a powerful motivator.

Talyara would have been thankful she wasn’t privy to Leoxander’s change had she been aware of the noises being what they were, for it probably would have drawn a grimace on her face with how painful the whole thing seemed. Did her sister have to endure such a thing when she shifted? She wasn’t sure if she dared to ask. With the consent granted, the witch reached out and touched Lora’s forehead with the back of her hand. Indeed the woman felt warm. The further explanation that she had been coughing and sneezing was met with an empathetic smile. “I remember when I first moved to Frostmaw, I got sick often, despite dressing as warmly as I could.” She resumed probing her bag and finally Taly’s fingers curled around the bottle she was looking for. “Ah-ha!” she exclaimed, showing Lora a small bottle with a dark, viscous substance. “This is elderberry syrup, I make it using both the berries and the flowers. I’m sorry to say that you’ll probably have to wait this sickness out, but the syrup should help alleviate some of your symptoms.” Taly placed the bottle in Lora’s gloved hand. “You just take one spoonful three to four times a day depending on how you’re feeling.” The witch then excused herself to the kitchen to fix Loravelle some tea. Once there, the sound of cozy kitchen noises could be heard throughout the cabin–the opening of an oven door as she checked on the roast and vegetables, the popping of a jar as it’s opened, the ding of a spoon against a mug as Taly added honey to the tea and mixed it in.

Leoxander brought his head up in time to see Krice in range with ready covering and a hand offered out. Typically, the proud and stubborn rogue would have likely looked passed it with a dull expression, but he was in no state to refuse the assist. His calloused grip clasped the warrior’s with a cross of thumbs, arm tensing to rely on the other man’s stability in order to climb to his feet. Still no verbal gratitude offered, it was replaced this time by a solemn nod, the look in his eyes speaking for the lack of words. At close range, if Krice’s attention wasn’t immediately back on the pair inside, he might witness the gold drain away as if the color of his irises were pulled into his pupil to leave a more stable blue, made brighter in contrast by underlining shadows and dirt from the hasty run smeared on his face. He didn’t need the blanket for modesty or to stay warm, as heat practically radiated off him at that moment as if his core was a stoked flame, his increased body heat made all the more noticeable after the transformation and travel. But as not to be ungrateful and perhaps partly for Talyara’s sake, he took it and hung it over his inked shoulders like a large shawl, approaching the doorway though he wouldn’t step inside without another reassurance that he was welcome to. Considering how filthy he was after racing from the mountains to Sage, it might be in the witch’s best interest to keep him on the stoop. His voice was hoarse and grated when the pirate’s brogue was finally heard, his comment directed for the healer. “She was talkin’ nonsense there for a bit. I seen signs like that at sea.” Usually just before a sailor flung himself off the ship or collapsed in a fit of illness no medicine would allow them to recover from. Naturally, he was a little freaked out when it came to his Lora’, particularly knowing now how fragile she was in her youth.

Loravelle kept still as Taly pressed the back of her hand against her forehead. Her story about moving to Frostmaw brings to mind her memory of first visiting Frostmaw. “I g-got sick too the first time, but...” Presumably Leo is within earshot. Had she ever told him this and would it be embarrassing to tell? She pats the leather jacket he threw at her that night long ago that covered her, or was it Lita's? Didn't she have Lita's jacket on her too? She's patting one of those jackets, and casting a glance at the doorway whether Leo is still visible there or not. “He gave me this and it kept me safe.” Skittish as she could so often be, Lora jumps a little at Taly's exclamation but the bottle presented to her is looked at with curious eyes. Before she can ask what it was, the witch informs her and immediately more questions fill her thoughts. With that botanical tome at home she's been reading through, a healer father and now encountering another healer, it's becoming glaringly obvious to her that perhaps healing is something Lora should learn herself. Once the bottle is in her hand, she nods, repeating Taly's instructions to help commit them to memory. “One spoonful, three to four times a day... Thank you.” With Taly gone from view again, she looks down at the bottle, turning it slowly in her hands while listening to the pleasant and calming sounds of a home. Perhaps her home with the wolf will be the same too. The sound of Leo's voice reaches her ears, and immediately her head lifts and turns his way. If it weren't for the circumstances, she might laugh at how he looks like he's draped in a shawl and make a joke about him copying her, but now Lora only looks worried. “A-are you okay? And the others...?” Lita? Krice looked to be alright, but she swore there was another man in Frostmaw too with them. Lav, and she hadn't seen or heard Gorehilt unfortunately. Or did she? She can't remember. Just his horse. For someone whose memory was typically so clear, her inability to recall what exactly happened to everybody else is more alarming than she'd like to admit. Hopefully it's only because she's sick and she'll feel better soon.

Krice curled all fingers and helped Leoxander find his feet, thereafter as sturdy as he looked for the wolf to gain stability from. He didn't offer the blanket until it looked like Leo might take it, because the heat wafting off of him was more than even the warrior had ever produced, also warmer than other human men. He made no fuss over the help he gave, needing neither thanks nor acknowledgement - though accepting either in whatever minimal way it was offered with equally little fuss. The two men were similar in that regard, at least in that moment. Crimson eyes naturally striated by gold held to Leoxander's just long enough to see the shift back to blue. A sign of completed transformation? With the blanket taken, Krice's hand was free to move at his side as both men turned back toward the cabin. At Talyara's invitation, Leoxander would likely enter to be with Loravelle on the couch. The warrior would follow a moment later, his eyes drawn past the couple to the healer. He followed her unspoken direction and turned for the kitchen. Therein he would wait to receive his companion, whose arrival drew him from a pensive state that took hold quickly but faded at the sound of her voice. He turned to receive her, attentive and expectant

Talyara would never turn someone in need away from her home, and while Leo might not physically need any type of healing, he clearly needed to be with Lora and make sure she was okay. This was a behavior she recognized from the warrior. She carefully carried a mug of tea back into the living room as the pirate's voice drew her attention to the doorway. She waved him in after handing Lora the mug and sweeping her discarded salves and tinctures and syrups back into her enchanted bag. “Please, sit,” she said, stepping away to give him room to sit beside the woman. “Sometimes when our bodies get too cold, we can lose our faculties. Confusion and memory loss can occur,” she explained with a small frown. “Where I’m from this would happen when our hunters would get misplaced in the woods on a particularly cold day…” Taly shivered at the memory of finding half frozen witches speaking nonsense, seeing things no one else could. Talyara glanced at Krice for a moment and inclined her head towards the kitchen so that the pair could have some privacy. “I apologize in advance, that’s yarrow tea and it can be a bit bitter so I added some honey for flavor. It should help with your fever and any infection that might be brewing.” The witch would then move into the kitchen with (hopefully) her warrior in tow, and once there, would wrap her arms around his middle in an embrace.

Leo didn’t hesitate to step inside at the witch’s gesture and welcome, though he was definitely humbled compared to his usual brazen demeanor. Whether Talyara’s explanation made him feel slightly relieved or more concerned, his expression didn’t show. A bit of both, really; she obviously had experience with such illness but he hadn’t missed that subtle change in her body language as she privately faced her memory. Settling on the couch beside Loravelle, the blanket fell from a shoulder as his hand reached out to tentatively rest on his fiance’s back, answering her question in a murmur. “They’ll be fine. Everything’s fine…” Maybe he was trying to convince himself of that just as much as he was trying to reassure the book keeper. He missed the way the warrior and the witch wrapped up in each other's arms, his solemn gaze fixed upon Suoxin intently. “Scared the s**t out’a me, Dove.” His tone still low and edged with tension, that work worn hand rubbed at that spot where it had come to rest through the many layers of clothing she wore. Really, he only blamed himself even if he might not admit it out loud, putting her at risk in those frigid conditions. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to confront Lita later for her stint on the hell-horse. Finally, he tore his gaze from his partner to look toward the other pair. “I’ll make this up t’you. Both o’you.” The question was still there in his eyes as he focused in on Talyara specifically for a few seconds. Would she be okay?

Loravelle thanked Talyara when she returned with the mug of tea. She doesn't drink from it just yet, instead holding it with both hands, letting the heat from the mug pass through the material of her gloves to warm her fingers and palms further. She's grateful for the warning regarding the tea's bitterness and the honey added to it when she finally does take a sip. Once Leo is on the couch with her and she feels his hand against her back, she leans to the side so her head can rest on his upper arm or shoulder, whichever happened to be closest with their height difference. Looking up toward him, she tries to smile and murmur some reassurance to him. She's been ill so many times in the past that while a frustrating inconvenience, she's confident she'll be fine. Leo hasn't seen her like this however, and that confidence diminishes at that thought, only to be replaced with guilt. Especially when he said he was scared. “I'm okay...” We're okay. Always.

Krice had been focused on helping Loravelle and Leoxander, and then watching Talyara do the same, that he had yet to remove his white katana from its horizontal low-hang across his back. When Talyara joined him in the kitchen, he watched her attentively, gilded eyes not once leaving those emerald counterparts until their embrace obscured them from view. The warrior lifted his arms to encircle the elf’s shoulders, his right hand reaching up to hold the back of her head tenderly. Silver hair obscured his expression as he leaned in to rest his mouth upon her forehead. A shift in the atmosphere, subtle and undetectable to regular humans, told him that Leoxander’s attention had lifted from Loravelle to focus on them. Tilting his head, the enigma received the wolf’s gratitude with the slightest tip of his chin, offering Talyara a window of silence into which she could insert her response to the concerned look the wolf gave. Despite the ongoing conversation, Krice would keep his arms curled around the witch unless she wanted to move away; otherwise, they were as stuck together as Leo and Lora appeared to be.

Talyara didn’t have superhuman or lycan abilities, but she was good at reading energy, and she felt Leoxander’s eyes on them before his words reached her tapered ears. She loosened her grip on Krice’s midsection, enough to lean back and better look at Leoxander on her couch. “Please, don’t worry about it,” the witch said, waving off his offer of “making it up to them”. She was a healer and this is what she did. Krice was a community helper and warrior, this is what he did. Her expression softened when the lycan asked if Loravelle would be okay, Taly reading the silent question in his eyes. “Admittedly, I’m not the kind of witch who was given the gift of clairvoyance, but the fact that Lora’s eyes seem bright and reactive, she’s responsive and able to hold conversation, and it looks like the shivering has subsided, I think she’ll make a full recovery. She must just be a bit under the weather for a week or so. Hopefully less, if the syrup does the trick.” Talyara paused. “Uh, I assume you can wiggle your fingers and toes? No interesting shades of dark blue or purple on your appendages?” She didn’t suspect frostbite but as she was the healer in this situation, she thought it better to ask.

Leo didn’t want to overstay his welcome. It was awkward, being there in a stranger’s home, half naked, accepting their generosity rather than trying to scrutinize such things as their alliance, their purpose, the depth of their pockets. More than he cared to admit. But it was a long way back to their island and somehow, he’d have to find a way to divide his attention between making certain Loravelle didn’t get worse, and returning to support the members of his inner circle in Vailkrin’s arena. Particularly after the fatalities in the previous winter sport and how dirty they were playing with all the added necromancer touches. Receiving Talyara’s answer and gaze, he nodded when she seemed to know what he needed to hear, turning his attention back to Loravelle to take one of her hands in his free one, inspecting her delicate fingers for discoloring before he closed his hand around hers, palm over fist, to assist in warming them up. The tea seemed to be working well for that. Only then did he allow his gaze to drift around the cabin, taking in the homey touches, even if they seemed in the middle of moving in or moving out. It still made him wonder if that was the kind of home Lora’ dreamed of, where she could sit on a couch like this, sip her tea and enjoy a book illuminated by the light pouring through windows. It was a far cry of gentle perfection compared to the places he’d stayed in his lifetime, but besides the quarters of his ship, Leo had never really had anything like this. A home. Once his fiance had answers the healer, he risked a more casual question while he continued to rub a hand on the book keeper’s back, smeared in dirt that stuck under blunt nails from the wolf run, knuckles marked with symbol tattoos and a curious green dot inked permanently inward from the base of his thumb, in that space of skin webbing from thumb to forefinger. “Yer Lanara’s sister, aren’t you?” Be it similarities in appearance, scent, demeanor or otherwise, he was fairly confident about the guess.

Loravelle keeps quiet and focuses on drinking down her mug of tea, but freezes mid drink at Talyara's question. Could she wiggle her fingers and toes? She tries her toes first, and though she can't see them since they're covered with socks and boots, she's pretty sure she can feel them. Not wanting to forfeit that mug of tea just yet has her testing digits on the hand Leo took first while the other held onto the mug, then momentarily setting the mug down by her feet to mirror the action of wiggling her fingers. Before leaning forward to pick her mug back up, her free hand settles on top of his to give it a weak little squeeze at some non-verbal reassurance. It's okay. “Yes,” Lora nods. As for discoloration on her skin, she couldn't be sure. It felt like she was wearing at least ten layers of clothes between her robes, Leo's jacket, and Lita's as well unless the vampire took it back before they traveled down from Frostmaw mountain. Plus all those scarves wrapped around her throat and head. Turning to her fiance then, she scrunches her nose while he examines her hand. “Any odd colors?” The temporary ducky tattoo on her face is probably bright yellow, and there was that black dot inked at the base of her thumb too, to match the wolf's green. If it weren't for her feeling so under the weather, her reaction to the revelation that this may be Lanara's sister would be a lot more enthusiastic. Instead, Lora's eyes light up with surprise and there's an abrupt turn of her head to look at the healer with a big, albeit tired grin. She's really fond of the Swan Queen and any sisters she may have by extension. What if there were others? Lora had a bunch of sisters too. “You are? I love Lana!”

Krice would release Talyara if she so wished it, but as he turned to lean rearward against the kitchen counter, katana hanging just below the lip, his right hand lingered around her left one to prolong the contact - and communicate an unspoken message. As such, she’d be more able to converse with Leoxander without having to strain or lean away from the obstruction that was her supernaturally warm, stalwart companion. With the immediate threat to Loravelle’s life now seemingly over, he was able to drift back into his more reserved natural state in the company of strangers. The human’s responses to the healer’s questions were observed and scrutinized, his heightened eyesight confirming her answers with visual affirmation - though she was obviously not lying, and Talyara would have no cause to think so. With the conversation turning from Loravelle’s health to more personal matters of siblings, Krice remained where he was - not a social type - and simply listened, though his companion might notice occasional wandering of his eyes, distant and guarded before he caught himself.

Talyara nodded appreciatively when Leo and Lora confirmed that wiggling toes and fingers of normal color were all in order. She didn’t know what she would have done if the woman had frostbite! She probably would have had to resort to magical healing. Leoxander’s question drew an arched brow, but the witch nodded to his query. Lora’s exclamation about her sister was met with a grin of her own. “I do, too. Most days,” she added with a playful wink. The sister’s would do anything for one another but that didn’t mean they never had spats as siblings were wont to do. There had been that mud wrestling match several years ago, after all. Talyara chanced a glance at Krice’s face, reading his expression, before looking back at the couple on the couch. She mouthed an apology to her mate before turning back to the couple. “I don’t mean to sound presumptuous and we don’t have much. But there is a spare room in the back if you felt you needed to take the night to recover?” Was it awkward? Probably. She didn’t know these people, but her heart being as big as it was, she couldn’t -not- offer accommodation after what they had just been through. “Or at the least, you can stay for supper? I would hate to turn you away with empty stomachs.”

Leo had a limit to the charity he could swallow down, and although their intrusion was for a very important reason in his eyes and he knew Loravelle would be warm and comfortable there, Leo shook his head to dismiss the kind offer. He was the reason his lifemate was in the shape she was in, but he was still determined to take care of her and keep her safe. “You’ve already done so much…” It might have been in Lora’s best interest to eat some comfort food, the scent of that cooking dinner was like aromatic music and it reminded Leo that they hadn’t consumed much that night… day… whatever hour it was - he’d lost track of time between wild chases and transformations; the gray skies of Frostmaw never gave away much when it came to that. The similarities between Leo and Krice were fairly obvious. While the wolf might be a bit more brash and heavy handed and liberal with his harsh vocabulary, he tended to fall into that quiet, guarded state when nervous and unsettled or cautious and pensive. He looked back toward Lora’ to see if she would protest to stay for the meal and learn more of the couple that had come to their rescue, to try to judge whether she was capable of traveling, though he knew they wouldn’t make it back to Rynvale that night. Simon wasn’t going to be happy, pup-sitting the rambunctious twins an extra day, but he knew his old acquaintance would understand.

Loravelle knew just what Talyara meant with that teasing comment about her sister, and she has to laugh softly. “I feel the same about min-” she abruptly turns to cough into her elbow. “M-Mine.” She's of the same mind as Leo when it came to the healer's offer, though she felt more guilty about staying out in the cold for too long to get sick in the first place than anything else. That's what caused all of this to snowball and roll right to the witch and warrior's doorstep. Food sounded and smelled delightful too, but Lora couldn't bear the thought of eating something now and getting sick after all the help this couple has been to both her and Leo. Still under the impression that Krice is a lycan too has her glancing between him and her fiance momentarily. They behave similarly. Maybe all wolf men were like that. She's sort of getting used to taking the lead and making decisions when it came to some things she and Leo did, so after a bit of quiet thinking, she looks to the wolf with a slight frown. She may be sick but he looks like he's gone through the wringer. “You should eat...” They could sort out where they're sleeping afterward.

Krice , during one of his more common, longer-stretching lucid moments, caught the apology Talyara silently gave him and didn’t have the foresight to guess why. When she offered Leoxander and Loravelle a chance to stay and recuperate, he connected the dots. Oh, that’s why. The only shift they would see was more guardedness on the warrior’s part, an almost full reversion back to the man Leoxander had encountered at Frostmaw’s damaged but functioning tavern. He had never interfered with Talyara’s desire to help people and he wasn’t about to start. He had a decent-sized heart as well, but his experience had taught him that the world wasn’t as safe as his companion might’ve wanted it to be. And then she offered them -food- and there was no way to tell what he thought about that - but at the least, he tolerated it because he knew of his companion’s enjoyment when hosting others. She -was- good at it, and whatever made Talyara happy was fine by the enigma. As Leo and Lora flirted with the idea of accepting the elf’s offer, Krice listened and observed. If she had let go of his hand by now, he’d lift it with the other to fold both arms over his chest. Loravelle’s momentary cough drew a more scrutinizing eye from the warrior, though she gathered herself shortly after and any concern he may have felt was tempered.

Talyara didn’t expect Leoxander and Loravelle to accept her offer of a roof and she didn’t push the matter, either. It was there on the table should they change their mind and need it. She looked back up at Krice and smiled apologetically once more and squeezed his hand affectionately. She released the warrior’s hand and spoke placatingly to the pair. “Honestly, it’s not trouble if you want food. I cook like we are hosting a small party,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose at her own silliness. The witch cast a cursory look at Lora’s way and added, “if there’s something else I can make for you please don’t hesitate to ask.” Taly exuded kindness which was both endearing if one liked that sort of thing, but it was also her fatal flaw.

Leoxander reached up to tuck an errant strand of onyx back away from her face and under her headscarf if it was still intact, behind an ear to the very least. “I’ll hunt.” He didn’t know much about Krice, or Talyara for that matter, but he recognized the protective and reserved behavior, and Leo very much felt like an intruder in that cozy cabin. Even imagining the idea of sitting down at an actual table with all those fancy things like plates and cutlery was daunting, and that was before adding the visual bonus of being covered in mud, but not necessarily much in the way of clothes. He only hesitated to let Loravelle finish her tea, standing and shrugging the blanket uncomfortably back onto his shoulders and clutching it with a hand before realization dawned that it wasn’t his, and he slid it from his back to inspect it a moment before glancing around as if uncertain where to put it now that it was covered with dirt and some stray wolf hair. The rogue's eyes shifted back toward the healer and her warrior guard. “Thanks…” That word was as foreign to him as the symbol inked on the new rabbit tattoo outlined on his right wrist. “For everything.” He couldn’t quite express how indebted he was, even with that rare spoken form of gratitude. “C’mon, Dove.” Leo didn’t plan on letting her rely on her own two feet for long, but he would at least wait until they stepped outside before he picked her up, to spare her a little embarrassment.

Loravelle looked from Talyara and her offer to the rest of the cabin that she could see from her seat on the couch, all while finishing off her tea. This is what she aspired to have one day. Replace the setting with Rynvale and the sound of the beach in the distance...The thought brings another grin to her face. It looked like Leo made his decision, and she'd follow him wherever he intended to go. She's a little torn however, because Taly has been nothing but kind and she wanted to return that kindness somehow. Once she's feeling better. “D-do you like muffins?” An odd question to ask while she gets to her feet, while she takes the blanket from Leo's shoulders so she can at least fold it up for Taly and Krice. This leaves her with a look of uncertainty on where to set it down, but she looks to the couple and has to thank them as well. They did save her life, in essence. Leo too. “Thank you so much, Taly and...” Did she learn the warrior's name? Lita called him Local Male if her foggy memory serves, but that sounded silly. Maybe he'll fill in the silence with his name, but if not, Lora finished the sentence with, “Mister.” Before Leo leads her to the door, she tries patting down her pockets to make extra sure she hadn't left that bottle of elderberry syrup behind. That's her lifeline until she gets better, for sure.

Krice would not allow Talyara’s kindness to be fatal for her. Where she was overly welcoming of others, he had a healthy dose of skepticism about -everyone-; he would keep her safe, taking note of ‘red flags’ that she might miss, or at least simply giving something or someone a second thought. The contrast between them in that sense was stark, but their rhythm as a unit was synchronized and unshakable. With Leoxander declining his companion’s hospitality, his expression softened just a hint, reacting preemptively to the potential disappointment Talyara might feel - and considering himself the cause. Leoxander and Krice worked in subtleties, nuances, and body language; he could tell that a contributing factor in his decision to leave was likely due to the warrior’s standoffish demeanor. “ Krice,” (pronounced ‘crease’) he said to Loravelle, his expression a little less guarded when directed at the human woman. Lita was not wrong about these being two alpha males ‘in the wild’. What a crazy vampire. If Talyara, ahead of him already, hadn’t stepped forward to take the folded blanket from the book keeper, he would do so and afford Leoxander another nod in acceptance of his gratitude. Farewells were delayed when Loravelle asked the emerald-eyed witch if she liked muffins. His silver head turned to observe the healer through her answer. Once niceties concluded, Krice would stay close to Talyara. If that meant he moved with her to see the other couple out, then he would.

Talyara nodded in understanding. She wasn’t offended they didn’t want to stay, she only wished she had something to offer to take with them. As it was, she had to replenish their personal stores of food so she didn’t have even a strip of jerky to give. As Leoxander rose and waffled with the blanket, which Lora eventually took up and folded, Taly took it upon herself to relieve her of the linen. She wasn’t put off by dirt or animal fur. She was a witch after all and spent plenty of time digging in the earth and conversing with nature and animals. “Of course. You’re welcome,” Talyara said with a kind smile before turning her attention to Loravelle. “Yes I love muffins! I love to bake myself but admittedly, I don’t make them too much.” A random thought suddenly hit the witch and she held out her hand to stay the couple. “Can wait a moment?” The witch pushed the blanket into Krice’s arms not waiting for an answer before scurrying off into the kitchen but for a second. She returned within a minute, a piece of muslin fabric filled completely and tied off with dried tea leaves and flowers within. “Here’s more of the yarrow tea, in case you need it,” she explained, extending the parcel to Lora. “And if you need more of the syrup just send me a note, I can send off some more.” Talyara would accompany the couple to the threshold to see them out properly, before offering kind goodbyes and feel betters, and eventually closing the door.

Leoxander hadn’t been given an exchange of the silver-haired man’s name in the tavern earlier, but leave it to the Mouse to achieve the information with her sugar and spice demeanor. His response to the male he finally had a name for was, naturally, a mirrored and slight nod in return and he hesitated in the doorway, taking the time to rip a bit of hanging torn fabric from pants that had become knee length shorts, shoving the excess piece into pocket rather than litter it on their stoop. Awaiting the exchange of package, yet another tally on the generosity count, he turned to step barefoot onto the forest terrain and rose a branded hand in a gesture of farewell before his arms were full of the petite and bundled up bard, lifted from her boots bridle style in order carry her away from the nestled cabin with one last glance over his shoulder as the door closed.

“Krice,” she repeats the warrior's name. “Thank you again, and you too, Taly.” She may not have a kitchen to work in with her current living situation with Leo just yet, but she could borrow her family's. This meant once she's better, they have to visit home in Gualon to whip something up as a thank-you for Taly and Krice. While another wave of sneezing and coughing surely would be on its way soon, she's stringing together sentences without interruption now. She hands the blanket back to the healer and grins. “I used to bake a lot with my sisters. It's so fun.” Before she can say more, she nods at Taly's request and is left dumbfounded at the woman's kindness as that bundle of tea leaves and flowers finds its way into her arms. Though she hardly knew her, Taly seemed like someone Lora aspired to be just like one day. “T-thank you, again.” Before she can stammer out half a million more thank-yous and have Leo scoop her up in front of Krice and Taly to get her out of their home, she hurries as quickly as someone with a fever can go to reach Leo's side and step out. Like Leo, she turns to wave farewell too until he has her in his hold to be carried off somewhere for the night.

While Talyara didn’t mind animal fur and dirt, Krice’s nose was so sensitive that the smell of lycan almost gave him a headache; he accepted the blanket from his companion grudgingly, but without hesitation given her haste. Under the surface, his mental fortitude tempered the intensity of the effect the scent had on his receptors, allowing him to continue holding the blanket without issue. Talyara moved a moment later into the kitchen and returned before long with a tea parcel in hand, offered to Loravelle. The friendliness between the women softened his expression further, just enough that he almost looked approachable, before gratitude was once more given - and he again nodded in acceptance of it. “ Take care of yourself,” he said to the book keeper, his tone pleasantly neutral those his words were true. Once Leo and his mate had exited the cabin, Krice would step away from the door - back inside - while Talyara closed it behind him, locking them safely away from the world.

[ Part 4/5: Crackers & Brandy ]