Antoth breathed a sigh of relief as he rounded the final curve before the west gate. His sweep had netted him three more kills, though none had been a serious contest. After meeting with his other two teams just north of the gate he’d rallied and sent them back to defensive positions at key junctures in the alleyways. Between himself, Winters, and the others he was confident they could at least manage to herd the rest of the raiders out of the village. After seeing his men off he’d stuck to the shadows between the outer row of buildings and the wall, wondering exactly how he’d play the situation. He didn’t want to force a fight, just make sure none fled into the village proper. That was when the shouting began. There was first a roar that had to be Winters and his spirit guardian. Then came a sound like a thunderclap from the other side of the village and all hell broke loose. Raiders began running out the gates as fast as their legs could carry them, trampling one another in an attempt to flee as the sounds of slaughter came closer and closer. Kneeling in the shadows, utterly mesmerized, Antoth watched as Winters single-handedly laid waste to the entirety of the enemy force, cutting through them like grain at the harvest.

“Uthos protect me,” he whispered into the night as Winters arrived at the gate, close to his hiding place. Something happened, something he wasn’t privy to as Winters drew his rifle but refused to fire. Even as he stood and walked out into the side street, Antoth found himself unable to look away as Winters seemed to come down from his battle high. He began shaking, standing and looking around at the bodies of the dead. The smell was overpowering in Antoth’s nose. It made him uneasy, his body reacting to the presence of so much death. Never in his life had he seen such a one sided slaughter.

In what seemed but a second Veera arrived, grabbed Winters’ hand, and took off, leaving nothing but corpses and snow in their wake. The captain let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “By all the gods…thank you.” Antoth prayed as he walked out into the main street, thanking the fates that Winters had been with them in that moment; and thanking them that he was now gone. Awful as the result had been the tactician in him knew that the outcome of the fight would have otherwise been an utter disaster. In the worst case scenario the entire village would have been slaughtered after the enemy force had looted to their content. He slowly began walking among the bodies, looking at the arms and armor their adversaries had worn, when the last voice he ever wanted to hear hailed him from the rooftops. Ratha had apparently leaped from roof to roof from her temple, following the human’s trail of destruction with no small amount of glee.

“Now that…that was a hunt!” She exclaimed, dropping to the ground in a roll before standing with grace, eyeing him critically. He was on edge. He’d been fighting for hours. He knew she’d see it.

“Don’t fucking push me Ratha, not tonight. By Uthos…there are at least three different clan markings on them!”

“Isn’t it remarkable?” Ratha agreed, seeing one of her arrows protruding from the back of a corpse. She plucked it from the flesh, making a show of licking blood off the arrowhead before approaching Antoth further, her short stature somehow making the scene even more intimidating, intimidating to everyone except him. He turned his nose up at her. “That human probably just condemned every northern tribe we know of to death!” Antoth rose from the body he’d been examining and snarled at her, disgusted by what he saw.

“How dare you Ratha! Look around you! I likely lost half my men tonight; along with gods know how many civilians. Your hunters were attacked. Your temple was looted. And yet here you are drinking the blood of your enemies and delighting in the idea of a pack of hyrven hunting down a starving band of women and children!”

“Oh Antoth, they won’t be hungry!” Ratha informed him happily, her face suddenly falling as her tone changed to that of a murderer. “They stole my food, my wealth, and my men. They’ll be fat and happy when death comes for them. And it will come-” A resounding thud filled the air as Antoth backhanded her with all of his strength right across the muzzle. Surrounded by blood and carnage he cared not for the useless code of the Sentinel. What did Uthos know about Kel?

“ENOUGH! I knew you were a depraved woman, Ratha. I knew that hunt changed you and that you’ve never let go of his denial of your advances, but by all of the gods woman do you even hear yourself right now? Do you understand what you’re even saying?!” His chest was heaving with anger and adrenaline, his breath fogging the air between them as Ratha slowly looked back to him, a paw resting where he’d struck her as a trickle of blood dripped from a split lip. Her eyes were daggers.

“I know exactly what I’m saying, Guardian,” she hissed. “I know exactly what I’m saying, what I’m seeing, what I’m thinking. I am alive, still! You’re a low type of Cauthan to blame me for treating life this way, for scorning the world that took the one thing from me that I ever wanted. For despising the life that forces me to remember every time one of my men goes missing. At least I feel something in the face of all of that Antoth!” She spat blood into the snow before going in for the kill. “Unlike you. You even got to taste of that sweetness and yet now you feel nothing! You might as well be Uthos himself for all you are. Does Antoth even exist anymore?! Or did he die with her and leave the Sentinel in his place?”

“You red haired BITCH!” Antoth roared, grabbing Ratha by the shoulders and slamming her into the building behind him so hard that the frame shook. The force of the blow stunned her into silence as the breath was forced from her lungs. He continued to yell as her vision swam and her shoulders burned. He could barely think straight through all the anger. “You dare…you DARE speak of her in the same sentence as your stupid teenage crush?! He was nine years your senior Ratha and even twenty two years later you remain a petulant child. What do you know about loss? What could you possibly know?” He lowered his voice to a rumbling growl as his fingers closed around her throat and squeezed with the force of a warrior. “I had to watch the light leave her eyes, Ratha. I felt as all the strength faded from her grasp. I had to watch, powerless, as the day that should have been our happiest turned into my worst nightmare. I stood there as my son failed to open his eyes or take a breath. I lost them both right before my eyes; but I was the Guardian. I could never just be a father mourning the death of his mate and son.” He felt his vision clouding with tears as he gazed down at Ratha’s pathetic body while he slowly crushed her. Though her face continued to show nothing but defiance her body betrayed her, forcing her to gasp for air through her constricted windpipe. The pathetic sound shocked Antoth back to reality.

“Gods, what have I done?” He whispered, releasing her. Ratha fell to her knees, clutching her throat as she desperately tried to suck in air. Above her Antoth allowed his rage and sorrow to consume him. “Damn it! Damn it all!” He screamed into the night. After all that he’d seen and done that night he couldn’t possibly be the unmovable bulwark he was honor-bound to emulate. His fists slammed into the wall repeatedly until they bled, the pain barely registering and he remembered the funeral pyre. “I’m sorry Uthos, I’m not worthy it would seem.”

“Damn Uthos.” A small voice called from beneath him. “Damn him to hell, Antoth.” Ratha looked up as his blood and tears fell onto her face. She’d never found him more attractive. Pushing herself up, she met his eyes; hers crystal clear, his awash with the pain of the past. “Yes, you heard me Antoth. Damn Uthos. Damn Valta too for that matter. Damn the gods, every one of them. They created this fucked up world that we’ve somehow still survived. Damn them for forcing us to live through this pain. Damn this world that took your little boy from you. Damn this world that took your mate.” She placed a hand on his chest, feeling his strong muscles heaving as he tried to control his breathing. Her voice softened to a whisper. “Damn this world that left you and me alone in it. Damn this world that burdened you with command at sixteen. Damn that thing they made you become, a Guardian with no emotions of his own. Damn them for not letting you mourn your lost family. Damn them for only seeing you as the thing they wanted from you.” Unbelievably, Ratha felt her own eyes beginning to sting as she remembered a time before all the death. “Damn them for killing the spunky, impulsive boy I used to know.” His breath stilled as she brought her nose close. He could smell her. “And damn the human most of all, for making me do this.”

Taking his head in her hands Ratha kissed Antoth, hard. It was a needy, hungry, and clumsy act; her wild nature and impulsive movements compensating for his utter lack of anything as he stood stock still, feeling her lips move over his as she nipped and bit at him. He tasted blood from when he’d struck her, the coppery tang shaking him awake. He was far too consumed by emotion and by battle to think about what ‘honor’ would demand or to consider exactly who was attached to the lips and teeth that were making him feel good, making him feel alive. Ratha growled happily as she felt him responding to her, body flushing with heat as his arms took her by the shoulders again, firm but gentle this time. She could practically taste the sorrow on his lips, the burden he’d been forced to bear alone for almost a decade while he remained the strong face of the village Guardian. For the briefest of moments, feeling the lightning arc between their lips, surrounded by death and fire, Ratha thought that just maybe it might be time to allow herself to let go. Even if she never fully stopped hating the mutt, maybe it was time to pursue another before it was forever too late. She pulled away, most pleased when he growled at the lack of contact.

“Ratha that was…not the time,” he tried, humiliated with his inability to criticize the act itself.

“Antoth, you know as well as I do that you loved it. But I’ll humor you,” she purred, running her claws down his armor. “Our village is burning. We both have dead and wounded to attend to. You go do your duty and I’ll do mine. But I swear Antoth, I swear to all the gods. If you force me to sleep alone tonight in that temple where my men died and my life was just stolen from me…I will never forgive you for as long as I live.” To her shock, he actually chuckled at her.

“Something tells me you’d carry that hatred into the next life as well, and I don’t think I’d want to be the man responsible for all of that. If I sleep at all tonight…I’ll come find you.” His promise given he turned from Ratha and made for the west gate, securing it before taking a breath and turning around. The huntress was nowhere to be seen. What in the name of the Sentinel am I getting myself into? He wondered, striding off to check on the other gates before joining the effort to fight the fires, the last vestige of the raiders left inside the city walls.

-----

Winters ran through the street, feeling for all the world like he was running from the spirits of the dead.

“Russell, please, I can barely keep up!” Veera called from behind him, her pleas falling on deaf ears. Io was listening at least.

‘I’m sorry Veera, I’m sorry!’ The VI cried. ‘I didn’t know what to do! He was breaking down. He was about to start shooting and I locked his armor. I invoked you and Jess to try to get him to stop! It was all I could do! I let him get out of control and then I…oh what have I done?!’

Though Veera didn’t necessarily like what she was hearing, she didn’t feel she was in a place to judge. To her Io had always been more human than machine. She didn’t know what role she’d filled before meeting her, but she didn’t feel that Io was being fair to herself. “Io, we’ll deal with that when the time comes. Right now both of you need to focus and help me save Xan.”

‘Yes Veera, you’re absolutely right. I’m sorry. Nice shot by the way,’ Io remarked as Winters stepped over a raider corpse that was missing its left arm, shoulder, and the upper-left half of its torso.

“Thanks…I think.” Veera didn’t have any time to reflect upon her third kill of the night, instead following Winters into the temple. “Thantis, where are the other guards?” Veera asked, shocked to still see only Xan inside.

“Ah, Veera, Winters, I take it the enemy has been repelled?”

“They have,” Winters replied darkly, much left unsaid. Thantis barely hesitated, leaving that sleeping dog to lay undisturbed. The gore-covered human was evidence enough.

“Then let us begin here. I have done what I can for the pain and he was drinking, but he appears to be fading,” Thantis reported, ignoring the fact that the front of Winters’ armor was practically dyed red. Winters walked up to the stone table along with Veera. Indicating the medkit he motioned for her to stand beside him.

“I’m going to need your help, ok?” She nodded, knowing he likely meant that in many more ways than one. Shedding his gauntlets, Winters grabbed a pack of sterilized gloves and slipped them on. He pointed to a small device that to Veera looked like the pen that he’d shown her a couple cycles before; only this one was wrapped in some sort of clear, protective layer. “Veera, grab that please and open it. Don’t touch the device itself, alright? It’s sterile packaging.” He spoke in emotionless monotone.

“Ok Russell”. She steadied her hands and breathed deeply, finding that the arrows on the packaging made it an easy task. She held it out for him and he accepted it with muted thanks as they both turned to Xan. She never got an explanation of what sterile meant.

“Xan, if you can hear me listen to me and Veera, alright? Stay with us. This is going to hurt but we’re going to do what we can for you. Veera, try to keep him awake and focused on you,” Winters ordered, moving down to Xan’s leg where a small amount of red was visible on the bandage he’d laid over the wound foam about an hour before. “Alright Io, you’re up.”

‘Yes sir,’ Io replied, still shaken from the events of the evening but mollified by her confession and Veera’s response. She was more than capable of aiding her partners in that moment, zooming in on each major serrated vessel as Winters removed the foam piece by piece.

“What are you doing to him Russell?” Veera asked.

“It’s called laser cauterization. This device is a limited use instrument that fires a very high energy beam of light. I’m using it to close the various blood vessels in his leg that were sliced open.”

“By Kel, I never thought I would see something like this!” Thantis exclaimed, keeping a respectful distance and taking notes furiously as he watched the procedure unfold, not really having any idea how the human was doing what he was. Xan was grimacing in pain.

“It’s alright Xan, hang in there. I know it hurts but that’s just Winters closing your wounds.” She looked back up at her mate. “Will be be able to walk again?”

“I don’t know Veera. I hope so.”

‘If performed appropriately and if my understanding of Cauthan physiology is adequate, Xan should be able to walk with assistance…after a time,’ Io guessed. ‘But he will never fight again.’

“Right now I just want to make sure he survives his first battle,” Winters said, refocusing them all on the task at hand. Veera nodded sadly, speaking to Xan once more as Winters continued to remove the bloody foam piece by piece and direct the energy that she couldn’t see into the wound. After about fifteen minutes, during which time the pain awakened Xan long enough to get a bit of water mixed with painkilling herbs into his system, Winters threw the cauterizing pen on the ground along with the dirty bandages and foam. Torchlight danced over his bloody armor as he looked at Veera. She tried her best to not let her fear show. She couldn’t help it, he was intimidation made flesh.

“Russell? What is it?” She demanded worriedly after he failed to move.

“I can’t…I can’t stop shaking.” He told her. As the procedure had gone on his adrenaline had drained from his body and he’d finally come down from his battle high. He was crashing, plain and simple. Io stepped up and took command, desperately wanting to make up for what she feared was a massive cascade of mental trauma of her own creation.

‘Sir, I am locking your armor to keep you supported. Please do not override it again. We will need the Aegis’ HUD so that I can guide Veera.’

“Ok Io…ok,” he breathed, feeling his jaws beginning to chatter as he held himself upright over the table.

‘Veera, we have stemmed the bleeding but we need to close his wounds, this one and the arrow wound to his right flank need attention. I will guide you. Please begin by putting on a pair of gloves; they are the white things that the Lieutenant placed on his hands. You can find another pair…yes, there you go.’ Veera had watched her partner diligently as he’d prepared to treat Xan and was able to repeat his steps, finding the package of gloves easily before opening it and slipping them on. The process was made easy by her fur, though it was a very strange sensation. ‘Excellent Veera, please do not deploy your claws while wearing those,’ Io joked. Veera humored her with a small, forced chuckle.

“What next Io?”

‘There should be a small red package that says suture, can you find it?’

“Suture…” Veera mumbled, remembering her human runes. “So s…u…t…got it!” She exclaimed, finding the small packet and opening it to find a hooked needle connected to a spool of biodegradable thread. It was encased in plastic housing that also functioned as a clamp for one side of the wound.

‘Excellent Veera, your English may help save a life tonight. Please place the clamp over the corner of the wound. Yes there you go, gently now. It’s alright, the hook is meant to puncture his skin. You will be sewing him up.’

“I wish I had Asha’s skill with a needle,” Veera whispered, concentrating as she watched the needle enter Xan’s skin, hook through one side of the wound, then the other, and finally emerge from the other side. All the while Winters’ towering form hovered over the table, Io guiding Veera’s hand as best she could while the human did what he could to keep himself upright.

-----

Twenty minutes later Veera let out a relieved sigh as Io informed her that she had done an acceptable job of closing Xan’s wound. Comparatively, the last step of slapping a human bandage over it was like a forest stroll. Winters had remained silent throughout the process, arms rigid against the tabletop. It took every ounce of Veera’s willpower to not let the nerves take over during the second stitching. She couldn’t stop wondering what was going through his mind, what his face looked like at that moment. Thantis did what he could for Xan in the meantime, speaking to him and assuring him that the pain would be over soon. At every opportunity the elder spooned a small amount of water into his mouth, sometimes with herbs, sometimes without.

At long last Veera tied off the second suture and laid another bandage over the wound. Io had determined the other arrow wound to be in need of cleaning and bandaging only, of which Thantis was most capable. Relatively certain that the young guard was stabilized, he looked worriedly at the blood-soaked suit of armor standing in his temple before meeting Veera’s eyes. She bowed to him.

“I’m sorry Thantis, but-” The priest cut her off with a polite wave of his hand, more than able to see the worry that had slowly etched itself into her features as the night went on.

“Nonsense child, you and your mate have done more than was asked of you here tonight. Go now with my blessings, and thank you for defending my home this evening.”

“You’re welcome Thantis,” Veera replied, moving to Winters’ side and trying to take him by the upper arm. He didn’t budge.

‘Veera, I will disengage the armor locks sequentially so he doesn’t fall on top of you but please hurry. I don’t know exactly what’s happening, but as best as I can describe it he appears to be turning in on himself in an attempt to block out what happened tonight.’ Io’s words caused Veera to remember the moment she’d reached the western half of the village, the moment she’d seen for the first time what her human was truly capable of when he was given free rein to destroy. It had sickened her, but he had not. The scene itself was gruesome, but Veera found herself hard pressed to see Winters as an evil force. She had starved, lost her parents, been ostracized and spat upon. He had changed those things for her. He had given her the ability to make a new life for herself, a peaceful life along with him. The raiders had sought to shatter that dream for their own selfish purposes. Though using a firearm had left her shaken and distraught in the moment, she was currently at peace. Her mission was to somehow cleanse her mate of the darkness that had fallen, unfairly in her mind, upon him. Grabbing Winters’ gauntlets from where he’d set them aside she tried to start with a simple task.

“Russell, can you do something for me please?” She asked politely, offering him his bloodstained armor. He nodded but made no sound. “Can you please put your gloves back on? We’re going to head out now. Xan is stable and we need to get you cleaned up.” Winters tried to obey, raising his hands and attempting to replace his gloves over the ones he’d used during the surgery. With light touch Veera stopped him, removing the gloves and adding them to the pile of discarded medical waste on the floor.

“Do not fret about that you two, I will clean it,” Thantis offered. With a nod of thanks Veera turned back to Winters, taking his left glove and helping him slowly slide it back on as his fingers shook violently. After repeating the same process with his right she placed herself under his shoulder and began to walk, forcing him to come along with her. He still supported his own weight, but it was clear that he needed the directional guidance.

“Thantis, could we borrow a couple of cloths for washing?” The priest was happy to oblige her, selecting three before piling them and slipping them under Veera’s free arm, shooing them out of the temple with repeated thanks. Out in the streets Veera contemplated their next move.

They could see that Antoth had secured the gates and rallied the guard force, who were now overseeing an effort among all able-bodied villagers to put out the fires that still burned. The remaining soldiers joined men, women, and children as every pot and bowl was run down a chain of Cauthan to the river and back, none complaining about the cold or the dark. Veera gave silent thanks that the snows had stopped and the thin crescents of the twin moons were becoming visible through parting clouds.

“Come love, this way,” Veera said, leading him towards the east gate. Though Antoth nodded in acknowledgement, having witnessed the scene himself, very few of the other villagers had. As Veera walked through the gates the water line came to an almost complete standstill as whispered rumors and questions began flying among the people. Veera grimaced and bared her teeth at them. She wanted to scream, wanted to tell them that they looked upon their savior, upon the man who’d delivered them all from total death and destruction, the man who’d ensured the granaries in the temple of Meylith had gone untouched. But she didn’t. She knew that it would be a night of fear and of sorrow. The time for tales and for healing would be in the morning. Instead she guided Winters off to the north as soon as she could, leaving the rest of her tribe to perform their task while she performed hers. As they walked to a location she knew well she tried Io again.

“Io, can you tell me a bit more of what happened?”

‘I believe that would be wise Veera, now that my body has recovered.’

“Wait, you said your body?” Veera asked with no small amount of surprise.

‘Yes Veera, though it is not a body as you or Russell would know it. The best way to describe it is that as the anticipation of combat reigned I found myself…drawn into the Lieutenant’s vitals. It happened when we saw a raider in the streets attempting to rape a young woman. She was approximately your age, Veera. The Lieutenant became furious, and I with him. My human-like subroutines won the battle and instead of doing my duty and restraining the Lieutenant’s baser impulses, I fed them. I have a heartbeat now. I’m simulating breathing and other bodily functions I don’t even have. It was thrilling and I got swept up in it. We both wanted to be violent. We both wanted to kill. We both wanted to be judge and executioner against those we saw as the enemy. The result is…plain to see on the streets of your village. I’ve failed him,’ Io concluded despondently. Veera shook her head.

“The two of you stopped them. If you hadn’t been here Antoth’s forces would have been overwhelmed by sheer numbers. That’s a fact Io, I saw how many bodies there were. Without you and Russell we’d all be dead or at their mercy, maybe taken as slaves…or worse. You even stopped once they’d fled. I don’t see how-”

“I didn’t stop.” Winters’ hoarse voice interrupted her as he stumbled in the snow. “I drew my gun on them as they fled, Veera. If Io hadn’t stopped me…” He trailed off, unwilling to repeat what the VI had said to him. He agreed. How could he ever speak to Jess’ spirit again? He could barely stand to be with Veera now, his armor the only thing stopping him from turning and running as far as he could. They were in the trees, so Io took the opportunity to reveal herself to Veera, the desperation plain on her face.

‘I’m not proud of what I said to him…’ she lamented. Veera felt she had a pretty good idea. She knew that Jess had been Winters’ rock in the past and that she had come to fill that role since then. It was clear what the most direct approach would have been to snap Winters out of his bloodlust and Io had taken it. Knowing that more lamentation and sorrow would get them nowhere, Veera swallowed her fear and addressed Io kindly.

“You did what had to be done. We’ll figure this out Io, the three of us.”

‘I pray that you are right Veera. Oh gods…I’m becoming a religious woman. Oh dear, I just did it again!’

“Don’t worry Io, it’s not so bad,” Veera replied, even managing a small laugh. For a moment Winters seemed to hesitate, but he soon allowed her to lead him the final few meters. “Here we are you two,” Veera informed them, presenting to them a small clearing at the riverbank that was shrouded by a canopy of trees extending over the water’s smooth surface. In the summer months it would be a wonderfully shady refuge. “I come here a lot. It’s far enough from the main spot the villagers use that I can be alone when I need to. I spent…a lot of time here when my mother and father passed. Go ahead Russell, you can sit.” She pointed to the bank where the slow moving water came right up to the edge of the snow. It was situated such that as he took a seat Winters’ feet and lower legs were submerged in the icy water, his armor protecting him all the same while the first of the blood washed away. Kneeling at his side and setting her cloak down in the snow to provide her with a warmer base for her legs, Veera leaned over and wet her first cloth. With tender care she began at Winters’ knees, squeezing the frigid water out over his armor to soften the dried blood before soaking the cloth and returning it again to wipe the area down. The water was cold, but Veera didn’t mind, keeping her paws out of the current and frequently drying her pads on her fur and dress.

Slowly but surely she returned his armor to its prior state, the white aegis of an honorable soldier, a kind soldier. The blood trailed off him into the snow and the river itself, swallowed up by the night. Put off by the silence as Winters and Io refused to speak, Veera absently began to hum a tune from her childhood, one that her mother often used to rock her to sleep as a cub. Veera had made sure to remember it always, as it was one of her last remaining mementos of her mother. Now she shared it with her human, hoping that wherever he was in that head of his that her tune would reach him. As she finished her mood grew lighter as he turned his helmet her way; a small gesture, but one that meant he was still listening to her, still with her. “I love you Russell…”

-----

Antoth wrinkled his nose as he walked down the western road. The smell of smoke and freezing corpses made him sick, but it was far preferable to living raiders and burning homes. The temple of Seil had been a complete loss, as had a few homes in the quarter. Gentia and Thantis were performing their roles though, shepherding the lost and the frightened. His job, at long last, was over. At least until Seil rises, he thought sadly. In the morning he would have to gather his fallen and perform their funeral rites, as well as overseeing the burning of the enemy. Lost in his thoughts his feet had brought him to the temple of Valta. It had survived the fires but little else. Walking inside Antoth felt his frown deepen, stretching the scars on his face. His torch was the only light save for the smallest red glow beneath the partition that separated Ratha’s chambers from the whole. Scanning the room he could scarcely believe his eyes. The raiders had picked it clean in the time it had taken him and Winters to rally the troops and respond to the attack. Not a single scrap of meat or leather remained. From what he could tell in the dim light many tools seemed to be missing as well. Moving through the space he noticed that Ratha had lain her fallen upon the butchering tables in the hall, perhaps with the aid of the surviving hunters. I suppose for her that’s probably a sign of respect. Their arms had been crossed over their chests where their bows rested in their dead grasp. Sighing deeply Antoth moved on, stepping over the bodies of dead enemies without a spare thought. He was pleased they’d killed so many.

At last, despite the protestations of his brain, Antoth found himself in front of Ratha’s home. He remained still, wondering if what he was doing was alright. It was true she’d never taken a male but even if she did want that from him, was it something he could do? Shutting his eyes tight he growled deeply, remembering his first kiss. Hell, I don’t think anyone could forget that. He recalled what Ratha had said to him, the words she’d spoken after he’d let loose his own rage. It was brief, but it was a side of Ratha he hadn’t seen in years, a momentary flash that made him recall their youth, a time before everything had changed.

“Well, I’ve come this far…” he reasoned in a whisper, steeling himself before extending his hand and pushing the door covering aside. The source of the glow was revealed as the dim embers of a fire that had already burned down. Antoth smelled the air around him, detecting a familiar scent. Walking to Ratha’s table he found a mug of tea full of the potent painkiller he’d recognized the other night. His eyes widened as he realized it was untouched. Maybe…I was wrong about you, he thought, draping his cloak over one of the chairs before leaving his torch in the fire pit. With a grunt he removed his tunic and armor before padding over to the bed, his heart pounding as he prepared himself to potentially commit taboo, completely unsure of what he’d find. As his eyes finally reached her Antoth knew deep down that he’d made the right decision, or at least the decision that his emotions demanded. Pulling back the hyrven fur blanket that the looters had somehow missed, he lowered himself to the straw beside her, reaching out tentatively to touch her naked shoulder. The small ball of auburn fur that was Ratha stirred before slowly uncoiling, allowing her a bit of vulnerability in the presence of a non-hostile Cauthan.

“Antoth?” Her tiny, sleep-shrouded voice was the only thing he wanted to hear for the rest of the night.

“Yeah…” Hearing his reply Ratha pressed her naked body against his profile, keeping her tail draped over her leg to obscure her center from him. It was not one of those nights. Instead of getting flustered or saying something noble and stupid that would have gotten her steamed, Antoth hummed deep in his chest. He accepted their situation for what it was, nothing more and nothing less. In that moment it felt surely as vital as rest itself. As he laid his arm across her torso and felt Ratha further relax into his solid frame, Antoth’s body began to calm. The horrors of that night laid in wait for them just outside but in that moment, together in the dark; Huntress and Sentinel were able to find the peace of sleep.

“Thanks scarface…”