May Event Log A: The Song of Suffering.

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🜙 Mod Note
	The Song of Suffering's resolution is jointly dependent on the choices all our players make (Who will take charge of the city?) and on the resolution of the Return to Einjar excursion. After you have read through this post please respond to This Poll as soon as you feel comfortable making the choices in it. Please respond even if your character is not participating in this event as the choice made effects the game world/all players.
🜙 First Blood April 26th
	In the late afternoon a challenge is made over the courier by Captain Lykos challenging the 'King' to come and properly fight him for control of the Defenders the way the old orc custom the Defenders were built on demands. In the message, he calls Koroc a coward and a thief, unfit for his role in the Defenders and unprepared to handle the even larger role he has claimed for himself. He accuses Koroc of not even trying to manage the werewolf curse he and Lykos share and says he may be to blame for Koroc's affliction, but Koroc's reckless endangerment of the city is to blame for the rise in werewolf attacks on the city. Lykos sets the battleground as King Ardis' camp outside of the city, a neutral ground away from the citizens who could get hurt in the crossfire. An enraged, Koroc takes a large group of his Defenders' newest forces out of the city to lead an attack on the former Captain and the invading King Ardis supporting him only to find the camp deserted of anyone but Lykos. The discussion between Lykos and Koroc appears publically on the couriers within the city, and everyone with a courier is treated to the impromptu visual of their meeting and the fight that follows it. Lykos gets Koroc to admit to working with the cult and imprisoning and using werewolves to attack the city, as well as implicating both himself and Koroc as werewolves as well before the feed ends, and the abrupt ending leaves the fate of the former captain uncertain.
Lykos Alice Lorna Ardis Koroc Cult Leader
🜙 Children of the Revolution April 26th-May ??
	With clear evidence now out that Koroc and the Defenders are not only working with some form of undead in their ranks, but also that both Koroc and Lykos are werewolves, Koroc's allies, Lorna's rebels, the strange travelers, and King Ardis's soldiers are all spurred into action, bringing the fight for the City of the Free People to a final confrontation for power. The city splits, rallying behind different sides in the battle. The battle encompasses the city streets and spills out into the surrounding land to the South and West of the city. The Defenders, their numbers padded with risen soldiers, hold the city. From within the rebels and the strange travelers fight the Defenders to force them out fo the city streets. Alice, Amy, and a small force of armed civilians and former revels focus on getting people out of the battle zones, teleporting people out where possible and defending them in an escape route out of the city with larger groups, while outside the city King Ardis and his knights storm the warcamp and put pressure on the Defenders, helping to clear a path out of the city. As the fighting overtakes the city another terrible set of howls sounds from the West beyond the city, and a pair of creatures join the fray. The white one assaults the city with unbridled destructive rage while the red one seems fixated on the people, hunting like a starved beast without pausing to feast on its downed prey. The beasts are unaffected by silver, wolfsbane, and other standard werewolf weaknesses and stand at around eleven feet tall, nearly twelve when straight-backed. They are closer to the size of a small swamp troll than an ordinary werewolf, their eyes glowing blue. The protrusions coming off of them are hardened bone and sharp enough to cause damage equivalent to spearheads or daggers if used to attack. Bites/Scratches from these creatures do not inflict any curses. They do not seem to fear anything but also appear to be mindlessly enraged. At different times during the onslaught from the mutated wolves a large white wolf appears, drawing the monsters away from fleeing citizens and members of all sides of the struggle, outrunning and distracting the creatures.
🜙 The Song of Suffering April 28th-May ??
	Two days later an unsettling prophetic orc threat from the not so distant past begins to ring true. The river that flows from the Northern mountains down through the City of the Free People begins to sing with ringing, echoing hums and runs red with a dark, thick liquid that looks like blood and smells like copper and rust. The touch of sound or liquid begins sending citizens into fits of raw, violent, amplified emotions. The fight for the city devolves into one of almost directionless, desperate violence and begins to lose what little point or meaning it had, spurred on by a madness that latches on to everyone within earshot or touch of the river and its endless ringing song. People quickly begin to change in more than just mood. Paranoia, Fury, or Desperation overtake them, causing mental and physical changes that reflect the emotion. More than one reflection can overtake people and while the infected waters remain so do the symptoms. Reflection Cause & Symptoms ⤛ Paranoia Caused by exposure to the ringing song of suffering. The sound of the ringing roots out and pulls to the surface every negative, lingering, violent, uncertain, or angry thought the person has had toward or about others and amplifies it, transforming emotions over a simple comment or fleeting thought into defined certainty and righteous fury. Twisting even the clear-minded or pacifistic until they are willing to kill others to protect themselves or those they are defending. While under Paranoia's influence they are beset by an unquenchable thirst and hunger, but no other physical symptoms. The only way to 'cure' someone affected is to disable their hearing or relocate them far enough from the river that the ringing can no longer be heard. ⤛ Fury Caused by any physical exposure to the water itself. Contact with the liquid causes a surge of wild, furious power that infects those it overtakes with a fury that is not their own. This fury is undirected and will cause the affected to lash out at anything near them, living or non-living. Once a target has been found they will not stop until that target is dead or completely destroyed. While under Fury's influence their skin begins to harden and grey starting at the hands and their strength, physically and magically, doubles. Fury can only be cleansed by fresh water or light magic. ⤛ Desperation Caused by ingesting the water or prolonged exposure to the water. If submerged, the person will find their vision quickly adjusting to the water and if they open their eyes they will feel as if something is looking back at them from the depths, reaching out to them. Once they emerge from the water or cease drinking the water they will either see or feel the thick coating of red liquid that does not drip or move, clinging heavily to their skin or muscles. The liquid seeps into their skin or muscles and their eyes turn bloodshot and then solid red. While under Desperation's influence their eyes remain solid red and their movements become sluggish with erratic bursts of speed and wild strength. Until they are doused with fresh water or light magic they will be consumed by desperation and singularly focused on their last goal or thought as if letting go of it would kill them. Without direction or a goal to latch onto the desperation becomes a consuming need to stop the noise and fighting around them through any means possible. 🜙 Top ⤛ Navigation

Comments

[forswore]

That Billie doesn’t shift back to a more human form... Daud doesn’t dwell on it. It makes it easier to travel with her body, but he doesn’t think about that either, mechanically going through the motions of pulling himself through the space between the shadows, over and over again, until he reaches their destination.

He isn’t surprised to hear the dragonet moving around, but he ignores him for now. Billie’s blood has seeped into his clothes, but so has a quantity of water from her fur, something which he notices as he shakes out the worn canvas sheet on the threadbare couch to lay her out on.

Odd, he thinks, but it isn’t the only odd thing he observes as he sets about examining her more closely. Fur damp, but not with the red water from the river, wounds oddly reminiscent of burns...

[redwhaling]

Daud may ignore him, but Red seems intent on following. He hops from table to chair to floor and creeps along in the tiefling's wake, though now that the smell of blood has hit his nose, he gives both him and Billie a wide berth rather than trying to get a closer look.

It's only a matter of another minute or two until the dragonet places the scent that goes with the blood with why it's so familiar. What Daud brought in is strange to him but...

It's fairly obvious he's figured it out when he starts whining in distress rather than chirping or making curious little trills. He still won't rush over to get in the way, though, opting to huddle up on the floor where he's taken a seat, feathery tail wrapping around him as he tries to make himself, well, very small.

[forswore]

It’s a noise that eventually rouses Daud from his bleak examination, glancing towards Red and feeling a weariness settle into his bones once more. Of course ... time doesn’t stop for anyone, does it? He doesn’t know if Billie’s body will stiffen into rigor mortis, doesn’t know if she’ll even return or if Rocket’s bitter warning on the couriers will prove true.

He can only wait. And in the meantime, there’s the living to attend to, as much as he’d like to stuff the wax plugs back in his ears and ignore it like he did the ringing. He folds the canvas over Billie, tucking the corners in and smoothing it neatly down before he turns to the dragonet, signing clearly and speaking firmly.

“Quiet now.” He straightens, padding over to the small washbasin and pitcher of water he’s set up on a side table. The small bit of water in it now seems even more precious, given the state of the river at present, but he’ll splash out some to soak a cloth so he can clean his gloves and his other leathers. It won’t remove the scent, but it should weaken it, if nothing else.

“She’ll be back.” He just doesn’t know when. Now, what else had Billie taught Red... “Stay here. Guard.” ‘Don’t eat’ was never on their list of signals, but he doesn’t think that’s a worry with this reaction.

[redwhaling]

There's hesitance when Daud turns and goes through the familiar motions and words that Billie's drilled into him thus far, if only because they're coming from Daud and not Billie, but, in the end, he does follow through, the distraught noises he'd been making trailing off into silence.

Of course, the next dilemma is 'stay'. When Daud moves, Red also moves to follow him, except then he gets that sign. It means he just stops in place, awkwardly placed in the middle of the floor, head swiveling between him and the covered body back on the couch. Here? Is he staying right here?

This young, he doesn't really get that 'here' undoubtedly means the house itself, but that kind of nuance isn't going to apply to Red for awhile yet.

groans at having to look up dog and bird training

[forswore]

Of course, it couldn’t be that simple. Daud lets Red stay where he is a moment longer, needing the moment to steady himself and empty his mind of other thought, before he steps closer, holding his arm out for the dragon to hop onto. He does so moving slowly and patiently, and it’s no doubt a strange experience for the dragon. Daud has never initiated contact before, tolerating the dragonet’s playing and curiosity around him before Billie inevitably pulled him away.

“Step up,” he directs, quietly.

you've officially done more research on this than me

[redwhaling]

It's different, that's for certain, but Red doesn't seem particularly startled by Daud's approach. The tiefling's been a fixture in what is literally the dragonet's entire life — all two or so months of it — and even if Billie's made a point to keep him from bothering him, he's never been afraid.

As such, he's a mystery he isn't allowed to climb all over and he's now offering him an arm. Daud may be surprised at just how fast Red perks up and jumps up onto his arm, wings flaring out a little to help him keep his balance.

[forswore]

Dragonet in hand, Daud steps back to the couch, though he doesn't make a move to drop Red on it yet. Instead, he paces the length of the furniture with Red, back and forth, pausing whenever the dragonet expresses curiosity before resuming the slow pace.

"Guard," he murmurs, indicating one end of the couch first, and then repeating the command again at the other, making it clear through speech and gesture that he's indicating the couch and all it currently contains as the objects he's meant to be protecting. The dragonet may not be able to talk, but he'll keep at it only for as long as he's sure he has Red's attention, after which he sighs and slowly moves to coax him off his arm and onto the emptier end of the couch.

"Stay."

[redwhaling]

It takes a bit. Red keeps looking back at the couch whenever Daud gestures at it, then back up to him again, as if working on putting the pieces together. It's obvious enough he wants him to stay on the couch, though 'guard' still isn't familiar. Staying on the couch, though, the dragonet is pretty sure he can manage that.

When Daud moves him down to the empty cushion, he does give a mournful cheep of sorts. Whether that's because of what else is on the couch or that it means 'hanging out with Daud' time is over is unknown, but he does clamber down off Daud's arm to the couch afterwards.

And there he'll flop over onto his side, much like a cat lounging around. Still watching Daud intently, but not making any move to leave that spot.

at some point while billie's dead daud traipsed off to fight koroc so uhh tbd

[forswore]

Daud's quietly relieved the dragon puts up no protest -- the last thing he needs right now -- enough that when Red settles into place, he rests his fingertips on his spine. It's the briefest of touches, something that could barely be called petting, but it's there, and then it's gone.

And shortly, so is the tiefling. He disappears for most of the remaining daylight, bound for parts unknown. Daud returns in the wee hours of the morning wearily, to feed the dragon (though he'll direct him away from the couch then) and fold himself down on the cot in the opposite corner of the room for shallow, uncomfortable sleep.

It only lasts a few hours, but Daud's tired enough not to push Red off if he insists on clinging close. His animas will take up the post of guarding the shrouded body, perching on the back of the seat and keeping an impassive watch over it.

billie's gonna be disappointed she missed that fight and only has herself to blame

[redwhaling]

Unfortunately for Daud, Red does insist. The shrouded body is cold and unsettling and that means the assassin will inevitably wake to find the little dragonet curled up against him, fast asleep. This is how it will go for one day, two days, and then, just before the dawn of the third day, the only audible sign of Billie's return is a gasp for air followed by a rustle of the shroud being shoved aside and the creak of her sitting up suddenly on the couch.

Human again, though nearly as disheveled as the rat had been. Blood that may have stuck to her fur before doesn't vanish with the shift, it merely transfers to skin, to clothes, but that isn't her biggest concern. It isn't even Mercy, who's taken up Red's place to guard overnight. First, she checks her chest. That's healed. Then, her side, but that, too, carries nothing more than a phantom memory of a knife. She would have to pull off her coat to check but she's already sure no sign of damage will remain.

It's only after those frantic few motions that she looks up, checking her surroundings. Familiar. Her gaze eventually settles on Mercy, confirming she isn't alone, at least, and some of the tension bleeds from her shoulders. That relief is short-lived. Mercy's here. Daud killed her. Had to kill her, again. In all honesty, that memory alone isn't the only cause for the sudden rise of nausea that claws its way up from the pit of her stomach and—

She needs air.

Shoving the rest of the shroud aside, Billie staggers to her feet and heads for the closest door, the one that leads out the back. It's a small mercy that she'll get to retch in some privacy, even if it's just out of sight, even if it's just for the moment. The second round of resurrection is rougher than the first, which is something she's finding out in real time, right now, and it'll be out in the pre-dawn darkness that she's out in the yard, fallen on her knees, more or less at the whim of her stomach — and what it's rejecting wholeheartedly — at the moment.

Back in the house, the commotion has definitely woken Red, meaning there's suddenly a little dragon uncurling and trying to leap from the cot, already beginning to raise a racket.

[forswore]

Daud had been awake from the first creak of the couch, but living on a ship teaches you valuable lessons about privacy— namely, the importance of feigning the pretense of it even where none exists. There are moments that people should be allowed to keep to themselves, and waking up for the first time after a second death is one of them.

Besides that, he hasn’t yet ruled out the possibility that Billie may not have come back entirely herself. His blade is close enough to hand that he could reach it if he needs to.

As it turns out, he doesn’t need to. When Billie bolts from the house and starts throwing up outside, he’ll finally sit up, nudging the squalling dragonet off him, getting him clear of the sheets.

“Go.” He won’t be quick to follow. He doubts Billie would appreciate him seeing her undone, so he goes for the more practical route of getting up to start heating some water.

[redwhaling]

Even the illusion of privacy will be appreciated in retrospect. Having seen Mercy keeping watch, she already knows he's either in the house already or on his way back, but she'll take her time anyway. It's not like there's much choice in that, anyway, until she hits a dry heave rather than anything else left in her stomach.

It's a small kindness that it's still too dark to really make out what all of that was. She knows. She'd still rather not see.

She'd really rather not have to contest with a nosy dragonet suddenly appearing at her side and making curious noises at it, too, but that's also not a choice.

"...Red, no," she murmurs, pushing the chirping little beast away. Another cough but clearly nothing else coming up means she can probably move again and she'll do what she can to throw dirt over the mess before scooping Red up and slowly, carefully getting to her feet. It's an unsteady walk back to the back steps, which is as far as she feels like making it.

She's going to take a seat there instead of going inside just yet, focus torn between slow breaths, trying to keep herself calm, and keeping Red from clambering all over her. It takes about three attempts to remind him he knows what 'stay' is, then she can peel her gloves off and idly pet the whining dragonet, fingers brushing lightly along the feathered spines along his head and back.

[forswore]

Daud will give it some time, listening to Red and Billie move around outside; when he determines she's not coming in any time soon, he'll eventually make his way out, holding two battered copper mugs filled with what a quick sniff of the air will identify as black tea with honey in.

"If you want whiskey in that, it's inside," he tells her evenly, offering her one mug. He doesn't partake of alcohol himself as a general rule, prone to ordering one drink for show and then never finishing it, but that wasn't the top priority of the previous homeowners.

[redwhaling]

Billie only stirs briefly from stupor she's fallen into — having settled into just staring off into the distance with one hand laid across Red's back — to accept the mug. While she does seriously consider getting up to find that whiskey, that just ends with a slight shake of her head. The effort isn't worth it.

As for the dragonet, he's settled down by now, though he does cheep at Daud as he joins them, which will be the only sound apart from the handful of crickets still chirping away in the pre-dawn hours, at least for a little while. She settles on staring down into the tea instead of off towards the city, waiting for it to cool some. She may not suffer from the scale's heat magic but she's already learned that doesn't necessarily protect her from other heat sources, like, you know, hot tea.

What the hell is she even supposed to say after the last few days? Mulling that over is the cause of her silence, trying to put words in some semblance of order, looking for an explanation that might alleviate the worst of this...

Only there is none. That's the answer she comes to every time, so, she settles on the unavoidable.

"I really screwed up out there," she say at last, voice rough from either dryness or illness or both all at once.

[forswore]

Daud's silent himself, but the fact that he's remaining out here instead of slipping away speaks more than words likely could. He'd be content enough to leave things as they are, until Billie speaks up, rousing him from whatever dark, brooding thoughts he's fallen into.

"It's done," he says, simply. Magic may exist that can reverse the ravages to their bodies, but no magic Daud's aware of is capable of reversing the past. He could chide Billie for not taking precautions against the water's effects, and what came after, but what good would that do now? He's trained her to recognize her own mistakes without him needing to point them out. It's why she made such a competent student.

"You weren't the only one." He's not the type to fidget, but his tailtip flicks, slightly, as he waits to see whether she's inclined to fill in any blanks unprompted or if he'll have to get his answers out of her slowly.

[redwhaling]

'It's done' is right. Billie knows better than to dwell on it for too long, although this time around, she isn't as sure how easily she can move on. She's killed people before, obviously. It's something she likes to do. This, though, this was different. That hadn't been an assassin; a monster, more like, than anything else.

It's rattling to look back on, trying to make sense of the parts that all blur together. Daud won't have to dig for his answers but he will have to tolerate another silence, although she does finally look up again, just not towards him. She's tracking something in the sky. A bird, flying in, and that means Deirdre makes her appearance at last, in front of the steps and making the usual rude seabird noises at Billie.

Daud may not chide her but the animas is of a different opinion.

That at least gives Billie some relief, seeing her show up.

"Took you long enough," she complains right back at her but that's as far as she's interested in taking whatever little argument they're having. It happens mostly over whatever odd connection they have, forever unheard by Daud. Deirdre settles and turns her head to eye the tiefling and whatever else she must have said has Billie pursing her lips, looking thoughtful for a moment. She still won't look up at Daud but, apparently, after the little back-and-forth between her and her animas, she'll sigh and settle on going over it like any other report she's made, trying to sound as detached from the subject matter as she can manage.

"I decided to take advantage of the situation and deal with a few people who needed to be dealt with," she says, not entirely unlike Daud's plan to go after Koroc. It just happened to be more inclusive. "Most of them were from the Defenders. Some weren't. I know my original reason for it was to try and clear out Koroc's support but by the time I realized the sound really was affecting me, I couldn't stop. It became more about proving something than actually getting the job done."

[forswore]

While Deirdre makes her appearance, Mercy will emerge from the house herself, though she won’t kick up nearly as much of a racket. She’ll perch on Daud’s arm instead, letting him bring her to his chest and resting her head briefly against it to feel their hearts beat in time, before she turns her steady gaze to Billie and her animas.

“It looked like more than a few, from your trail,” Daud answers, as a statement, not a criticism. “But it wasn’t one of those who took you out in the end.”

That should be a question, but it’s really more of a deduction. She hadn’t seemed to show signs of injury until much later.

[redwhaling]

"It's easy to find a reason to kill someone when everyone is suddenly the enemy," Billie states that matter-of-factly enough. Her kill count definitely expanded once she lost control. She isn't going to deny it. Skipping right to the end, though, she sees, and that's where she falters for a second, fingers tightening around the copper mug, shoulders tensing up.

It isn't a great memory and even Deirdre turns her attention away from Daud and Mercy as it comes to mind. This prompts the tern to hop closer and join Billie on the steps, picking a spot there to sit and settle down at.

The worst of it is having to untangle what happened and she briefly reconsiders going to find that whiskey, but—

"It wasn't," she agrees, the words coming out stilted. She doesn't have an answer for him immediately, working through it instead. "Someone else was tracking me. They got there before you. Someone I knew. Had to have been. They..." There's a pause, thinking again. "No, she. She knew my name." Which narrows it down dramatically. There it is. "Shura found me first. She tried to stop me."

[forswore]

"She put up a fair fight, but that didn't go well for her," Daud offers as an observation in turn. Some thought had been put towards following the tracks of whoever Billie had fought, but once he'd brought the body back to the house, what was the point? They were likely as dead as Billie was, by then, from the amount of blood on the ground and the violence with which they'd fought.

"Your fur was damp, She must have used ice against you." Ice that may or may not have come from the same provenance as Billie's scale, not that Shura is around to ask now. Daud's voice is neutral, dissecting the facts of Billie's demise, and it remains so when he continues speaking.

"How are your injuries?" He's pretty sure he already knows the answer, but it's not like he's about to pull her shirt open to check for himself.

[redwhaling]

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure she used ice," Billie concurs after considering it. She's seen Shura use ice before, back when dealing with the wolf, so it isn't a far-fetched guess to be making. "Her sword was cold enough to cause steam whenever she hit me with it. That would've been where the water came from."

The sword was still sharp but the ice would burst into hot steam on contact. She remembers wood scorching under her claws, flesh searing whenever she managed to rip into Shura— a bad train of thought. She stops it there and finally takes a drink from her mug. That makes her realize just how damn thirsty she is but for what little dignity remains, she isn't going to quaff an entire mug of tea in one go.

Her injuries are, at least, a simple answer.

"There are no injuries," she says, lowering the mug again. "It's like I was never hurt to begin with but there is something else."

She shifts her drink to one hand and has to fumble with the top two or so buttons of her shirt. It's only to go fishing for her necklace, as she has just as much inclination of showing off the extreme lack of injuries she's experiencing as Daud does in checking himself. Vial out, she turns towards him, holding it up for him to see.

It isn't quite half empty but it's damn near close to it.

"This was nearly full before," she adds helpfully for reference.

[forswore]

Daud expected as much, so he nods when Billie gives her answer.

“Lost more than when my animas died,” he rasps. Mercy straightens a little, feathers ruffling and resettling as she’s mentioned off-hand. “So being brought back has its costs. Lorna’s vial must be almost empty.”

He lapses into silence, brooding over what to say next, and finds there isn’t much. This isn’t like when she was taken after the Long Night, an awkward homecoming with the strange, throat-constricting relief of realizing Billie’s still alive. He can still remember the last shudders of life leaving her body under his hand, the light fading from glassy eyes as she died.

The tiefling looks away, fingers curling against his mug.

“Koroc’s been dealt with,” he says, shortly.

[redwhaling]

Billie's quiet for a moment, just watching him, but eventually she drops the vial to let it hang against her chest again and says, "Good."

She should have been there, helping take down Koroc. It would have been nice to watch him die after the mess he's made of the city, that vicious part of her will always say, but it'd be pointless to regret missing that particular show. It's done. It needed to be. That isn't what's most distracting, though. Daud looked away...

That could mean a lot of things. The tiefling has always been a tough read. That's on purpose, she knows, and it feels like a skill that still escapes her a lot of the time. It isn't going to stop her from taking a guess, though. He looked away before mentioning Koroc, so it isn't about the orc. About the vials? About dying? About her dying? He killed her again, that much she remembers. That, too, had to be done.

"Are you alright, Daud?"

Not a question she asks directly too often. It's also one she doesn't expect a very detailed answer on, knowing him, only she knows she's not alright. How can he possibly be?

[forswore]

There's a number of ways that Daud could respond to that, and the silence after she speaks is both long enough to considering them all and also to suggest he may not be intending to answer at all. He knows there's a response she expects from him -- whether or know she realizes it herself -- and when it turns out not to be what she wanted to hear, she'll only get angry all over again.

I haven't been alright for a while, Billie, he could tell her. Are those the words she's looking for? Is she trying to find the assassin he used to be, or the man he's become?

Daud isn't in the habit of leaving himself vulnerable. She'd probably have a hard time recognizing the man he'd been, near the end, confessing his guilt when the consequences of his actions caught up to him, waiting for a blade across his throat that never came. Had he done enough to earn his redemption? he'd wondered then. Not that it had mattered. Absolved of guilt or not, it had all burned in the end.

Maybe the bodyguard should have finished him off after all. Then he wouldn't have woken in the dirt a century later, to deal with all this.

"I'm not the one who's been dead for two days," is what the tiefling will settle on, finally. It's said ambiguously enough, with a terseness that communicates clearly his disinterest in having old wounds picked open all over again. "Don't make it a habit."

[redwhaling]

Who she's trying to find — what answer she's anticipating — even Billie doesn't know anymore. She still sees who he used to be, at times, plotting his next move, hunting down leads. That he's after answers and not a mark, the only difference is someone may not be dead on the floor at the end of the trail.

The rest, still a mystery. Frustrating at the worst times, confusing at the best. They've treaded over that argument once before. The only thing it had won her was a painful truth. At least the terse reply falls into what could be expected, even if it does sound like nothing more than telling off a Wolf who's been slacking. Yet even that sparks that same anger she's been holding onto, all in spite of how she thought herself too exhausted to feel anything apart from this bone-deep weariness.

She has been dead for two days.

She shouldn't even have the energy to be mad and, as such, while she can't let it go, she does ignore it.

Deirdre has less restraint over the matter. Where Billie merely looks on, expression barely changing save for a faint squinting of her eyes, the tern stands and fluffs her feathers out— or begins to, only to have her upcoming tantrum squashed by Billie dropping a hand on her and pushing her back down.

Deirdre still makes a few muffled, offended noises, but that's the end of it.

"You're right," is all Billie says to that in the end and she turns away, attention moving on past any of them to watch the sun begin its slow creep up into the sky. "I'm sorry, sir. I won't make that mistake again."

[forswore]

There's another silence as Daud struggles with something, mentally. Mercy cocks her head at Deirdre's stifled outburst, then glances back at Daud. Apparently coming to a decision, the osprey hops down and waddles to Billie -- a horribly inelegant motion, given she's most certainly a creature of flight -- to peer at the other disgruntled bird curiously, then making a softly mournful noise.

"You don't have to call me 'sir' anymore, Billie," the tiefling says. His voice already sounds like rusted gears on a good day; somehow, it sounds even hoarser now.

"...and I'm not the one you owe an apology to." In case she has any doubt what he means, he'll click his tongue for Red's attention, making the short motion for 'guard' and pointing at Billie. More than likely, it'll confuse the poor thing, but it's not so much about expecting to obey the command as it is prompting him to remind Billie he's there, instead of just curled passively on her lap.