RP:Knock, Knock, Knockin' on Poison's Door

Part of the Dissonance Theory Arc

Part of the Time Heals All Wounds Arc

This is a Warrior's Guild RP.

Synopsis: Honestly, Penelope is just worried about Krice's behavior since the funeral. She schemes with Talyara to meet at Talyara's cottage and have a sit down with Krice to get down on what is truly going on. Krice has been poisoned and loathes Quintessa for it. Nel trying to put his loathing aside, the healer wants to help cure him since Xicotl's first attack is approaching in the coming weeks.

Lharast Cottage

Penelope trekked through the snow. The woman hated the cold, but on her pink-tinted face had been determination. The snow was a change of pace from the dry weather. A break from the insanity that resided back… home. Home? It was odd to call Kelay home still. It felt surreal and not warm. Yes, Frostmaw would be a good change of weather and scenery. Mountain ranges and snow. With Kailani’s taught strategies, the novice druid could navigate the bustling town easily through the earth. A garden is passed by and a cottage relies up ahead. The same familiar one she had wandered up to months prior. This time approaching, Penelope Halifax is no longer hesitant, instead, she knocks with ease and waits patiently bundled up in a wool, thick coat, a hat, and fur-lined winter boots. To be honest, Nel was probably still freezing, but a little snow never hurt nobody.

Talyara bustles around in the kitchen, crouching in front of the oven and spooning the juices of a roasting chicken over the bird to baste it. Nestled in the pan with the fowl were potatoes and root vegetables--a very comforting meal, perfect for a cold, Frostmaw night. The witch hadn't stopped there, however, for cooling on the counter was a fresh winterberry pie. Penelope had mentioned wanting it in her most recent correspondence and she wanted to be sure to supply that request. The easy thing would have been to get one already made from the bakery; however, Taly prided herself on her abilities in the kitchen and her mother -had- left her with the most perfect piecrust recipe. Once she was done tending to the chicken, Taly wipes her hand on a towel and moves into the living room where Krice sits near the fire, wrapped up in several blankets. Once upon a time, this stubborn witch attempted to hunt a frost boar out west and the warrior had found her and insisted she wear his cloak; it unnerved her to see him cold now although she didn't dare utter a word of it to him. "Dinner'll be ready soon," she tells him with a smile. The knock at the door doesn't startle Taly, who had been expecting Penelope. "I got it," she says reflexively, laying a hand on her lover's shoulder in an attempt to stay him. Without bothering to ask who was there, Taly releases the lock and pulls the door open, washing her fellow healer in the warm glow of the fireplace and the smells of roasting chicken.

Krice didn't even hear the knock. Dressed in dark-grey track pants and a long sleeve sweater, the warrior sat before the fireplace with his katana resting on the floor in front of him, his entire body ensconced in a large fur blanket. It was only with the distant scent of Talyara's movements (along with the wafting heat that followed her from the kitchen) that he turned his head to track her over a shoulder, tired eyes squinting in bemusement at her I terest in the front door. Since his poisoning by divine goop courtesy of a traitorous ally, his mind had been saving a war with itself on whether to keel over or overcome his affliction. His senses has deadened nearly to normal human levels, and he barely left the cottage. Penelope could be forgiven for thinking that he had ignored her letter, but in truth, he probably just forgot about it. Belatedly the warrior felt Talyara's hand on his shoulder, but he was subsequently focused on the fact that she was pulling open the door without asking who it was. Despite his lethargy, Krice tensed with obvious apprehension, until a familiar face (and a voice muffled to him by his ailments) entered his awareness and he frowned, bemused.

Penelope instantly smiles and sort of bends her knees up and down to bite the chill of the outside. “Hi,” she breathes out as she feels the fire hit her rosy, freckled cheeks. The warmth begins to melt the pink away slowly. Her skin turning her original olive shade. The Ardelian would step through once the offer was made. “Thank you so much for tonight,” she begins before the aroma of chicken wafts through her nostrils. “Oh, wow, it smells so good in here.” Moss eyes then catch the warrior’s gaze who seemed to have a puzzled expression. Still frowning. Expected. Her gaze then moves back to Talyara with ease. “I brought some chamomile lavender tea. I figured with tensions lately, everyone can maybe use some.” The healer digs within her satchel in order to hand a jar wrapped with twine to the witch. “Of course, you’re pretty up there with knowing your herbs, and you probably already have some in your cupboard,” there is a short laugh. Should she laugh right now? Nel was an awkward duck sometimes. The girl inhales before addressing Krice who seemed… almost out of sorts. What was happening? “Hi, Krice. How are you doing?” Really? Small talk, Penelope? Maybe it was for the best since after all, the funeral had been tight with emotions.

Talyara gestures for Penelope to come inside and out of the blustery cold. Even as someone who called Frostmaw home, Taly still felt the bite of cold sting her exposed skin and seep through her boots and cloak whenever she moved about the warring city. As soon as Penelope crosses the threshold, the witch snaps the door shut and locks it once more before offering to take the healer's cloak. "I hope you like chicken!" she says happily. "And winterberry pie," she adds with a conspiratorial wink. The proffered jar is taken in hand and the witch beams at Penelope. "Thank you so much, that was so sweet of you! Lavender tea is my absolute -favorite-, and I don't think I have a chamomile blend so this will be perfect." The witch moves deeper into the small cottage, closer to the fire, and Krice, and shoots the warrior a sheepish smile. "I thought it would be nice for you and Penny to talk." There was no use in fumbling around the fact that the Ardelian and witch had planned this visit without making Krice privy to it. "Please, take a seat," she adds to the healer. "Normally, we'd eat in the dining room but I thought it would be best to eat in here so we could be close to the fire to keep warm. I hope that's alright with you."

Krice's brow twitched as Penelope walked in. Once the door was closed and again locked in her wake, he returned his tired stare to the fireplace. His right hand appeared out of the fur blanket to scratch at his chin, a small itch triggered by exasperation. Clearly he wasn't in a mood to be bothered with anything. Once Talyara neared enough that he could see her sheepish smile and hear the role she played in the arrangement of this meeting, the warrior shot her a frustrated scowl--only a small one; she was his favourite person, after all--and suffered the interruption through proverbially gritted teeth. Penelope's enquiry after his help was met with a mumbled, " I'm fine." He obviously wasn't strictly fine, but people who consorted with enemies deserved no more than that. Poor girls, both in such pleasant moods and he was the shadow in the room, untouched even by the glow of the fireplace.

Penelope shrugs off the wool coat to reveal a chunky turtleneck. Yes, the Ardelian bundled up to her best ability and still could not fight off the cold. “Winterberry pie? You –did- get my letter,” she grins. “Although, I could’ve been fine with just the journey itself and seeing you two. After all, I haven’t seen you in quite a while either.” The lightness from the witch makes the cottage feel warmer. The hesitance in her back subsides. Krice was quite the shadow. The healer follows Talyara’s suit. The shortness from Krice is taken with a grain of salt since the healer had been observant with previous behaviors. Distant. Vengeful it seemed? Either way the healer did not really know what had triggered Krice to act so… bitter. “Fine, okay,” she nods before looking towards the witch. “Dinner is perfect right here. So nice to even have a home cooked meal. I love to cook, but I haven’t been able to touch a stove in months. Plus, my brother doesn’t really cook, so how generous to even do this, Talyara.” She sits on command. Across from Krice. “Talyara’s right. I’m probably one of the last people you want to talk to, but we need to talk. This evening is about you. Your wellbeing.” Quiet washes over as she adjusts herself in her seat. “I’m… worried about you Krice. You say you’re fine, but… I don’t think you are. You seem… off lately. You just seem tired.” Her cheeks suck in momentarily as she studies him from his shadowed angle, “I know the funeral was… difficult. Emotions were heavy. I mean, funerals normally are heavy. Emotions are still high all-around even because… well…” The healer does not say Xicotl’s name. Everything had been confusing lately. “But what in the hell happened with you and Quintessa?”

Talyara protrudes her bottom lip in a slight pout when Krice catches her eye and he shoots her a frustrated scowl. It hurt her heart to make the warrior even the slightest bit upset with her and she couldn't help but show that hurt in her expression. She turns to Penelope and quickly fixes a kind smile back on her lips so as to not take her sadness out on her. As much as Talyara honestly would have liked to busy herself in the kitchen and allow the two to discuss everything amongst themselves, she felt like that would be rude, so she takes a seat on the couch next to the warrior, but keeps her gaze on Penelope. Being Krice's lover, she was privy to certain details that others didn't know, but she keeps her mouth shut. It wasn't her story to tell. Despite Krice's obvious displeasure with her at having helped organize this meeting, she extends her hand out to him, offering it should he wish to take it. "If I may," she clears her throat, her voice quiet and timid, "I think Penny is a safe person to talk to," the little witch offers gently.

Krice hadn't meant to hurt Talyara. If he had known, he likely would have thrown himself off a bridge in penance. Whatever the case, he was quiet while the two women conversed, a relatively welcome sound that helped ease some of his disgruntlement. Of course, that disgruntlement attempted to return full-force once Penelope sat down and began talking to him--not because she was talking, but because of what she said. The last thing he ever wanted was to be the center of any kind of attention. The moment Talyara sat nearby and reached out, he extended his left hand toward her without hesitation, emerging from the tufts of his fur blanket to take hold of her palm; purpled veins protruded out from beneath the cuff of his shirt, running between his knuckles but stopping short of his fingers. Penelope's query after his tension with Quintessa gave him pause; if she was asking, maybe she didn't know after all. Maybe none of them did. Maybe his judgment of the team for having her still in the Warrior's Guild despite her treachery had been premature. Talyara's words encouraged him further to speak with the other healer, to whom he mumbled a clearly displeased - though not toward Penelope herself, " She poisoned me. And two of the Holy Trees." Thereafter, the warrior added a clarifying, " If emotions were my problem, she'd be dead."

Penelope nodded slowly when Talyara suggested that the Ardelian was a safe person to talk to. It was true. Nel was very understanding in most situations, except for the situations that involved herself and her own personal life. As the hand of Krice extends towards the witch’s, moss eyes glaze over the purple veins that extend to the knuckles. Her brow furrows for a moment before eyes blink. The mumble of words linger in the air and pieces begin to fit into place. “You’re sick,” she notes, but eyes do not look at him. “Please tell me you’re going to get better?” The woman looks at Talyara for some sort of answer. They were a couple, and she assumed the witch knew just about everything. Eyes then linger on folded hands as she squints to find words. “You’re not talking about the tree in Sage, are you? Or Xalious?” Well, Nel, what other “holy” trees would he be talking about? “Why would she do that? How?” And then, there was the peak of concern as she looks at the couple.

Talyara exhales a breath she hadn't realized she was holding when Krice takes her hand. Even if it was a reflexive gesture, he couldn't be -that- upset with her if he was still willing to display this chaste show of affection. She gives his hand the gentlest of squeezes so as not to cause any pain but it's obvious that Penelope's gaze lingers on those purpling veins in the warrior's arm--how could they not? She dips her chin in a nod when the healer vocalizes the fact that the warrior is sick, more than sick. "We're trying," she says in response to the statement of him getting better. It was very hard for the big hearted witch, the known healer, not to be able to fix this completely (and quickly). There wasn't much she could offer in terms of commentary as to what had happened so quickly excuses herself. "You guys talk, I'll get dinner." Releasing Krice's hand she stands from the couch but not before pecking her lover on the cheek. Taking the gifted jar of tea with her, Taly makes her way into the kitchen to retrieve the chicken from the oven and serve up some plates.

Krice didn't dwell on his ailment beyond what Penelope and Talyara had said in that snippet of the conversation; to do so would not help him recover. His gaze drifted to the fireplace until the pull of his lover's hand drew his attention her way. There was slight tension in his hand, telling of his reluctance to let her go, but it was fleeting lest he unwittingly made her feel trapped. As he watched her depart the room, Penelope might have caught a rare glimpse of emotion within his dull-red eyes that told of his reliance on the witch; they were soulmates, for want of another term, and she was his anchor to the world of the living. Leaving the emerald-eyed beauty to tend to the meal in the kitchen, the silver-haired warrior withdrew his arm into the furs of his blanket and once more regarded Penelope. " She's an impressionable little shyte - that's why she did it." His words were only slightly slurred; despite how lethargic he appeared to be, he still managed to talk coherently. " She used some kind of... I don't know. It was something to do with the God of Death."

Penelope inhales sharply through her nose as the witch confirms the warrior’s illness. ‘We’re trying’. The other healing witch was trying. Trying. No success. The witch then stands and eyes lift before nodding Talyara off. “Thank you.” Then the faint glimpse from Krice is caught. The longing stare. Life. An emotion she was still learning, but she knew very well a time ago. Nel had witnessed Krice after what future was seen. There was an uneasiness that day after the Cave of Regrets. The girl is slow with her movements. Patient with her words. Easily she leans back and folds a leg over the other. “I’m guessing you were trying to stop her.” The woman massages her chest for a moment before leaning forward again. “I don’t know what she was doing. I don’t know why it happened, but all I know is, we need to get you better, and Quintessa needs to wait.” Quickly, she holds up a hand in case he decides to speak. “Lithrydel needs you. Truly, Krice. The other warrior’s need you,” her voice then lowers so her voice remains between the two of them, “Talyara needs you,” her lips are slow. “What Quintessa did seems… wrong. Chaotically hellacious, it seems. Especially seeing you in this state. I truly don’t know her well. All I know is time comes after all.” Blink. “I know you have these… feelings of hatred, anger,” her tone takes her to another place as she stares into the fire. “I know how you feel,” her lit-up gaze then reflects onto him again. “But we sure do have bigger problems to deal with, Krice.” A small hand rests on her chest. “I am not siding. I’m saying… you sure do have a hell of a life that is worth to keep living. And with Xicotl, you cannot do that. With this illness… you cannot do that either, err… I want to help you get better. Find a cure. I want to help Talyara and you.”

Talyara :: As the trio would be dining in the living room, Talyara opts to make plates of food up instead of having everyone serve themselves. The chicken is removed from the oven and places on the counter where she carefully cuts off pieces of both white and dark meat and places them in plates. She adds a side of potatoes and vegetables and drizzles some of the remaining juices over the whole thing. Balancing them carefully on a serving tray complete with two mugs of tea (for the healers) and a glass of water for the warrior, Taly slowly walks back into the living room, balancing all plates, glasses, and cutlery, with a scrunched up face of concentration. Carefully, very carefully, she lowers the tray on an ottoman and begins to pass out the plates. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting," she says to the pair. "I added a touch of honey to your tea, I hope that's alright," she adds as she hands a steaming mug to Penelope.

Krice 's favourite part of the chicken was the leg and thigh - which had no bearing on his preference for female body parts, just putting that out there. As such, Talyara would know to gift him with the dark meats of the chicken, which he could smell even with his poison-dulled senses. Penelope was giving him a pep-talk and he literally did not need it. The warrior may have been angry at Quintessa, may have wanted to kill her--and despite his ailing health, could have--but the fact that he had yet to exact punishment on the little shyte was testament to his emotional and mental state. While he firmly believed that she needed to be punished, he knew that she was insignificant in the greater scheme of things. His gaze dropped to Penelope's hand when twice she touched her chest, though he lacked the current awareness to glean whether or not the gesture was one of discomfort, or simply of self-indication. Though there were many of Penelope's words that were worthy of a response, he opted instead for a more broadly-sweeping statement that explained part of his animosity toward Quintessa: " Hopefully she doesn't betray us - yet again - at the eleventh hour." For all they knew, the snarky little phlegm-ball could have been the cause of their deaths. Whatever the case, Talyara's return to the room drew his attention and he looked up toward her, leaning into his right side - into the armchair - in preparation to rise and help her. She made it into their space before he could do so, however, and as such the warrior remained seated. Reaching out with his right, healthy hand, the warrior took his plate of food from Talyara and let his index finger brush one of hers in a moment of affection, hidden beneath his dish. Crimson met emerald and he murmured, " You're never interrupting," to reassure her before drawing his plate onto to the table of his left palm, currently still submerged in the furs of his blanket.

Penelope sat there patiently staring at the man. No word. Not until that single phrase. The freckled healer would take it. With a cool smile. “I hope that’s the case.” Penelope’s gaze remains intent on the poisoned man before the chime of sweet fills the living room again. Talyara. Legs unfold automatically. Intense discussion mixed with sweetness. At least Penelope’s emotions could flip like a copper coin. “Interrupting? Not in the least,” hands rub against her own thighs. The healer had a lot of nervous fidgets. The healer’s instinct is to help instead of being waited upon, but the witch seemed to have it under control before Penelope could decide to act. “This looks ah-mazing. This was super nice. You didn’t have to make a full on meal,” then she glances at Krice. “Well, for me at least,” she smirks while brushing a few strands of frizz out of her face. The plate is grasped. “I always put honey in my tea, so perfect!” The mug is held between palms for a sip before placed off to the side. “So… Talyara… I was thinking… if you need help for Krice’s health, I would be more than willing to offer a hand. Study? Figure out what is going on?” The waft of chicken swirls in the air, and finally, the cutlery is picked up to cut and pop a piece of chicken in her mouth. If anyone knew Nel, she always had an appetite.

Talyara hands Krice his plate of dark meat and the brush of his fingers against hers is met with a smile before Penelope is handed a dish with both a half of chicken breast and thigh. "I didn't know whether you preferred white or dark meat so you got both," she says with a chuckle. "And there is plenty more so please, don't be shy, eat your fill." As Krice knew all too well, Taly loved doting on her loved ones and she considered herself a bit of a kitchen witch as well. She might not be able to fight like Krice or heal as well a Penelope, but at least she could nourish people with hearty, love-filled food. Taly's cottage was small but homey with lots of personality and not a ton of space. "Please feel free to use, uh, whatever surface you need to balance your plate," Taly offers with a crinkle of her nose before plopping in the spot next to Krice and resting her plate on her lap. She immediately begins to nibble on a carrot when Penelope offers to help with figuring out how to heal Krice from the poison that courses through his arm. The witch arches a brow but nods her head. "Yeah, of course! So long as he's okay with it. And if he's not I'll just pout and bat my eyelashes until he says 'yes'," she adds with a giggle, winking at her lover.

Krice stared down at the meal. It looked delicious, smelled delicious, and Talyara had put obvious effort into preparing it for them. He needed to try eat it, at the very least for her sake. For the last several weeks he had barely eaten a thing, but his body was so efficient that it had held on to what little energy and sustenance it had ingested before. All in all, he had only lost about five pounds of total weight. His lover's conversation with Penelope, and the subsequent humour at his expense, was met with an almost-comical grumble as he lifted a forkful of chicken and rice to his mouth. Before partaking of the delicious food, the warrior mumbled, " Stop fussing."

Penelope decided to keep her plate on her lap. It was decided, yes. For now. “I love both, but I’ll probably go for the dark meat. Thighs are my favorite,” she adds with a grin. The woman forkfuls a couple of bites in before attending back to their conversation. Nel was a little monster. She chews and swallows at least before talking. “And of course, as always, we will fuss. You more so,” she points to Taly with a fork that has a potato on it. “Which is perfectly normal. So, it’s decided. I’m helping.” Pause. “And Krice, I’ll stop this conversation, but I will leave you with one more thing before I do. Lithrydel needs you.” And then that was the last phrase she needed to say. He can keep that with him even if he already knew. “So, besides, chaos as of always,” she sort of gives off a nervous laugh, “How is everything in general? Frostmaw seems like it’s in one piece. How’s your sister, Talyara?” The potato is then stuffed in her mouth.

Talyara 's left brow arches so high on her forehead it risked disappearing right into her hairline. "Stop fussing? Please!" she says with a huff. "If I had been the one poisoned what would you be doing right now, hmmm?" she enquires of her lover. They both knew that Krice would have her at the best doctors in Lithrydel if the situation was switched and if -they- couldn't help, he'd whisk her away to another land to find -their- best doctors. The three people sitting in the living room weren't the only ones who seemed keen on enjoying some chicken because a quiet mew suddenly draws everyone's attention to the floor where an all black cat flicks her tail and waits for someone to share with her. "No begging Taylor," Taly chides with a roll of her eyes but, of course, immediately breaks off a piece of chicken and offers it to her familiar. When Penelope enquires about her sister, the witch's smile falters a bit. "She's okay, I think. Her letters are becoming more sparse. Apparently, there is an illness that's gripped Kelvar and she's busy trying to help which explains the limited correspondence. I offered to come help, but she told me to stay put as it's apparently very contagious." Taly pauses. "I do miss her so, though."

Krice managed a small smile for Talyara's hypothetical reversal of the situation; indeed, if she had been the one poisoned, the floors would be run bare from his pacing, and he'd likely have starved himself with worry, and potentially kidnapped a few--hundred--healers and forced them to work day and night until they found a cure. Okay, point taken. He managed to eat two forkfuls before the conversation around him drew his attention away from his plate. Still holding his fork, but low over his plate, the warrior lifted his chin to regard Talyara and Penelope. There was an odd mix of brief panic at the thought of his lover venturing into a land filled with a contagious sickness, and intrigue at the prospect of her being far away from Lythridel. Or at least, these parts of it. Lythridel needed him, a message which did resonate - and brought with it a memory. Without giving it even a second thought, the warrior offered Talyara's all-black ‘familiar’ a piece of chicken right off his fork, his dull-red eyes passing between the two women. A frown marred his brow. He squinted, trying to make sense of the memory in his poison-addled mind.

Penelope :: Moss eyes turn to Taylor who mews for meat. The woman manages a faint smile with food in her cheek. Talyara then speaks of her sister’s news and the chewing of food slows down. “Oh, well, I hope she’s okay. Especially in a situation such as that. Illness spreads like wildfire, if not careful, but I trust she is smart enough to carry her own. I do hope she writes you soon. I bet you do miss her.” There is a long pause as her fork pokes at her plate. “I do too.” The healer then inhales before finishing off the vegetables on her plate. Her direction shifts to Krice who carries a dull gaze as if staring at a thought. She does not say anything since she knows the man is probably tired, and well, the Ardelian was an unexpected visitor. Food was always a good placeholder.

Talyara gives Penelope a small smile as she expresses concern over Lanara. She was of course worried about her sister and niece and all the people of her homeland who had already suffered innumerable losses over the years. She prayed daily to the Goddess asking her to keep them save and healthy but she felt helpless being so far away and unable to do anything more than that. She did her best not to dwell on it and goes back to pushing the food around on her plate. A silence befalls the room and the little witch casts her lover with a sideways glance, noting his furrowed brow. "You okay?" she asks him quietly reaching out to touch the warrior's arm.

Krice realized belatedly that his fork was still hanging toward Taylor, who had moved away from the empty prongs in search of more food - but not without brushing against his shins. Talyara's touch to that hanging arm drew his focus her way and he blinked, his expression pensive. Was he okay? Hardly, but as far as something other than poison was concerned... " Yeah." Easing back into his chair, he settled and pierced another piece of chicken from his plate, which he hesitated to eat as he regarded Penelope. " Sorry, memory's a little messed up at th'moment. What's going on with the guild?"

Penelope quietly eats on her chicken as she finishes her plate. Well, most of it, she still had leftovers on the plate, but she was full enough in that aspect. The woman sort of shifts as Talyara nudges Krice in reassurance. The Ardelian was about to stand to clean her plate, but the warrior addresses her. Instead, she places her plate to the side. The woman sort of scrunches her face. “Eight weeks,” she begins, “future Penelope, I mean I… Or… whatever,” it was too confusing still. “The first attack is going to be in eight weeks. We are trying to gather into teams to prepare which is another reason I’m here. Though I see you’re in no shape to… fight. Nor… think of a defense, no offense to you. Unless we get you back together in eight weeks.” Pause. “Lionel is exhausted. Always away, prepping, planning, venturing,” there was a very faint note of concern in her voice. One of care. “Either way, that’s the update, so far. Everyone is prepping and training… including myself. To my best ability.” A hand brushes a few strands behind her ear. “I know you… loathe her, but you think Quintessa might have… the answer you need for your health?”

Talyara gently moves her hand up and down Krice's arms in an attempt to soothe him. She felt a bit out of place in the conversation--the warrior had shared snippets of what he had gotten up to but as she was not in the guild itself, didn't know all the details. And she would never press her lover for them. When Penelope begins to explain what is going on, Taly stands to take her own plate of half-eaten food and the Ardelian's as well. "You need to eat more," she chides Krice gently before brushing her hand against his cheek affectionately. The witch would then move to the kitchen to deposit the plates and loiters in the other room so the two can talk more openly.

Krice turned his arm beneath Talyara's touch to let his fingertips brush the underside of her own arm or hand - whatever he could feel. She was forever his anchor, even unconsciously. Penelope's words caused a furrow to his brow, concern and apprehension registering in poison-dulled eyes. Eight weeks and they'd be attacked. He could thank Quintessa for how useless to the greater good he presently was. Talyara could consider herself grateful that she didn't know all the details, but truly, neither did he; he might have imparted upon her every instance of his time at the Demon Archipelago, every tidbit of his fight against Quintessa, if he remembered it all; as it happened, the warrior himself could only retrieve fragments of those separate incidents. Talyara's touch grounded him and he turned his cheek into her palm briefly, but fresh ire cast its shadow across his eyes upon Penelope's mention of the very demon-child he loathed. In a voice that was quiet and low, lacking energy but not hatred, he refused her suggestion: " I can't say I'd miss that little hellspawn if she was scraped off the surface of this world." He turned his head, realizing belatedly that the emerald-eyed witch had left the room. With uncertainty in his voice, given the future he had witnessed on the cavern wall, he called her back. " Talyara?"

/:: It was a thought to ponder. Quintessa Dragana. Would she have what Krice needed? The thought lingers in the back of the Ardelian’s mind as she stares at him with a blankness. Refusing the suggestion. Should Nel be nosy anyway and ask? Was it her battle? The hesitance then lingers in the air between them. The room is thicker when Talyara is gone. “It’s okay, Krice. I’ll get her.” The healer stands. It was probably about time to leave anyway. The pie would have to be for another evening. The freckled woman makes her way until she is in the kitchen to find the witch. “I think it’s enough questioning. I think he needs you and… rest. Perhaps you and I can talk about his condition another day? Thank you so much for dinner and… cleaning my plate and letting me come. I think it’s time for me to head back to the tavern before dark.” It was true. Walking in the night had been a game of night-blindness that Penelope did not want to play. Even if Kailani was teaching her to listen to the earth. It was still a work in progress. Plus the… post-traumatic stress. Nel wanted to avoid the triggers. With that she would turn and make her way to the living area again where Krice relies. “I’m going to walk back to the tavern now. It was good seeing you, Krice. Sorry for the surprise, but sometimes it’s necessary to keep you on your toes.” It was dry humor. Light in her eyes, but no smile. Only a soft face.

Talyara 's hands were elbow deep in a basin of soapy water, cleaning dishes when she hears Krice call out fo her. Withdrawing them from the murky depths, the witch is drying her hands on a dish towel when Penelope appears in the doorway. "You know you're welcome to stay here," she offers, already knowing that the healer would most likely deny her request. "I promise the couch is comfier then it looks." Assuming her offer is still declined, Taly takes the pie and covers it with a fresh towel before handing it over to Penny. "Here, take this with you. Krice prefers apple anyway," she adds with a wink. "I can come see you at the tavern if you'd like?" she offers, following the Ardelian into the living room. "I'm right here," she says assures Krice. "I was just cleaning up the kitchen while you two talked. Are you sure I can't tempt you to stay here, Penelope? Or I can walk with you to the tavern if you'd like?" Having lived in Frostmaw for some time now, she was more accustomed to the climate and path in the dark and snow.

Krice tilted his head to look past a particularly puffy tuft of fur at the top of the blanket wrapped around him, regarding Penelope as she stood to retrieve Talyara for him. Really, he could have done it himself. Feeling useless or burdensome was not his favourite pasttime. By the time both women returned to the living room of the cottage, Krice had found his way to his feet with the furs hanging loosely around his shoulders, his left vein-stained arm trembling subtly at his side, his plate discarded without incident to the nearby table. Penelope's apology for the unannounced visit was met with a slightly grumpy face--though that was likely due to thoughts of Quintessa--which softened with a hint of apology, just in case she felt unwelcome because of his present state. " Don' worry 'bout it," mumbled the warrior, shuffling slowly toward the two women to at least see Penelope to the door. He stopped after two steps, however, given Talyara's offer to walk the other healer to the tavern. In the dark. Really, Krice could be forgiven his over-protectiveness following what he had seen on that cavern wall. He pressed his lips together, his features slightly tense, and attempted to look casual and not expectant while awaiting Penelope's reply to Talyara's offer of company.

Penelope smirks with a smile. “I know. I guess I could really use a Frostmaw apple cider for the sake of being in Frostmaw.” As the pie is offered over, the healer is hesitant before taking it. “Pfft, like I can eat a whole pie,” well, maybe. She could offer it to the other tavern members. Pie and cider. Odd combo, but she would do it. The woman looks at Krice now who has one of those grumpy faces, but by now, it does not itch under Nel’s skin. In fact, it is like she has a layer of thickness. “I’m sure we can figure something out, Talyara. How about I write you again, we can set something up.” The girl then smiles to reflect the moped face of Krice. “I am perfectly capable of getting there. I’ve been able to navigate better these days. Listening to the earth for directions. It’s good to practice in the snow. Trust me. I’ll be fine,” she waves the two off as she nears the door. “Maybe next time I can make you two dinner. Well, if you ever pass through Kelay.” Beat. “Anyway, stay well, Taly. Get rest, Krice. And really, thank you again Talyara for dinner. It was… wow,” and ‘wow’ meant ‘great’ in her terminology. And with that she would open the door, look back at the two before wandering off to trek through the snow again.

Talyara is insistent that Penelope take the pie--she had made is especially for her after all! She As she follows her fellow healer towards the door to see her out she casts a sideways glance at Krice's grumpy face. She couldn't blame him for being clingy, on top of everything he had endured these last few weeks it had been almost a year ago that she had been kidnapped right from outside this door by witch hunters. Had it really been almost a year already? Talyara shuddered at the memory. "That's good that you are listening to the earth, and doing it in snow is good practice," she agrees with the smile. "Yes, we'll write and decide on another time to meet up then. I hope dinner was alright," she adds a bit apprehensively. A decent dinner was hardly a concern, but Talyara was a kitchen witch and put a lot of love in her cooking. "Have a good night, Nel! Thank you for coming!"

Krice couldn't help but feel a little out of the loop, and not because he was the only man in the group; he had nothing to offer Penelope and Talyara for their conversation or plans, but that was fine. When the aforementioned woman departed on her own, he did not deny himself the relief that followed for Talyara staying, though had he been healthier, he'd have offered just the same to walk Penelope out. At any rate, he dipped his head to fare her well as he paused behind his companion at the door, tired eyes scanning what he could see of the path ahead of Penelope, just to put his own paranoia at ease. As shadows and distance took her from view, Krice turned his focus onto his lover and murmured an agreeing, " Isstrue - your food is always 'wow'."