Rob watched Jason reading through the letter and wondered at the contents. By the second page, the corners of Jason's mouth were bracketed with white lines and he looked ready to punch someone.

When he finished, some of the anger was at least off his face, but Jason didn't look any better for it. "Do you need me to bug out and give you some space?" Rob asked.

"I don't fuckin' understand women. I just fuckin' don't," Jason said, his Southern drawl sounding weird to Rob's ear at the speed he was spitting out his words.

"Yeah, they're a mystery," Rob agreed, careful to avoid the body language that would make him seem like a good punching bag. Rob might be handling spear work better than Jason, but in a brawl, Jason hit harder, faster, and meaner.

Jason glanced over at Rob and the anger boiling off him rose a notch even as Jason rolled his eyes. "I'm not looking for a fight. You don't have to act like I'm a fuckin' abusive bastard."

Rob shrugged and turned to face Jason full on. "Not saying you are. Not thinking it, either. I do have cousins that swing to let off steam, though. So, what's causing the powder keg?"

Jason methodically began stretching his muscles in an obvious attempt to pull out the tension of his emotions. "Lena wrote that me trying to stay informed about what's going on with everyone is the same as pissing my name on her shit."

Rob blinked. "Really? She said *that*? *Our* Lena?"

Jason tossed the letter at Rob. "Read it yourself."

Rob did so. Then he read it again. He frowned and flipped the pages over, looking for hidden ink. "I think you're focusing in on the wrong things here, Jace. What I'm picking out is that she needs cool off time from the way you guys have been butting heads. Keep in mind that she cannot get up and walk away. She's told us a few times that she has to work to give us privacy when we're in the Studio. Just because she's gotten pretty good at being quiet in the corner doesn't mean she isn't always stuck in the corner.

"On top of that, she's not wrong. You have been our guy on point for the serious talks, and that's not where you shine. It hasn't come out as much in our game sessions, but you're probably our best strategist. You also have a bit of a white knight complex, swoop in and save the damsel. It's not a bad thing. You just need enough social graces so you're not stomping on yon damsel's toes when you're stepping up to throw your coat over mud puddles for her."

Jason's jaw jutted forward. "So I've been pissing in her Cheerios is what you're saying."

Rob thought a moment. "Yeah, a little. We've all been scrambling to figure shit out, and you and me, we have our training to fall back on. They never enlisted. They don't understand a lot of the stuff that's become second nature to us."

"Fuck," Jason said, scowling harder. "And now they don't have us. We can't be there to defend them."

Rob snorted and flopped back on to the only clear spot on the bed. "Eh, for what it's worth, when you came up with that cover story for Ignemrot, that we're fact checking the world outside the Studio, that is something they need us to do, and fuck if I'll volunteer Aaron for that."

Candy wasn't even an option. If she had been willing to step out of the dungeon, which Rob doubted, none of the original Studio crew would have let her go with less than the full crew beside her. Her mind just didn't work like a normal person's. Rob wasn't sure she was fully competent to handle her life in California, where she stayed in her fairly safe, middle class white girl bubble. On Rhofhir, where there were monsters just waiting to eat you? Rob could see the catastrophe waiting to happen there.

Tahmina glided from the wardrobe to the bed beside Rob and began rubbing her head against his hands.

Jason retreated into his own thoughts, and Rob left him to it. After spending a few minutes discovering the kitteagles were as affectionate as house cats, Rob got back up and repacked his gear bag, leaving out what he suspected was the spatial bag and setting the letter from Lena to Jason on the nightstand at the foot of his bed.

Rob and Jason had arrived in Lotrot in the afternoon. Checking out their kit and repacking it, along with some meditation time for the pair of them took long enough that they began to hear the sounds of a crowd gathering downstairs. Leaving the critters in their room, the duo went downstairs.

Conversations didn't exactly stop at their appearance, but the crowd in the room noticing them didn't take any pains to hide their wariness. They found seats at an open table nearer the stage, ate, and then headed off to bed. They could deal with finding guides and guards in the morning.