Natural Disaster [Nia]

[Reky]

Threadfall was stressful for the best of riders. Something about the pressure of saving lives and farms far below; something about having your own skin on the line, your own dragon. Something about being directionless in the air, following the flame and the silver, writhing flashes of death. Fe'an and Onth rode hard every single time, and the exhaustion usually had them asleep before they could even bathe. Today, though, Fe'an was still roiling with dangerous energy when he landed back on solid ground. He wouldn't sleep that night.

He rode in the same wing as his father. Once, he had high hopes for R'fus - he had imagined an upstanding dragonrider, a shining blue, a gleaming reputation. What else did any other little boy hope their dad would be? But R'fus dealt fellis to the underbelly of Pern and, somewhere along the way, got addicted himself. Fe'an had to hand it to him that he handled it mighty well. The man knew the crests and dips of the high and the low and he rode them just right, most of the time. Just right enough not to be noticed; to be written off as a tired man, or a sad man. Today, though, the ride hadn't been right. Fe'an had seen it. He had seen R'fus and Eondith falter in the air. He saw Eondith flounder and whip his head around at the last moment, seeing the Thread before it swallowed R'fus' head, blinking between just in time to leave his man entirely, perfectly unscathed. Fe'an had nearly made Onth break ranks in panic. He followed the tumbling, knotted Thread as it fell and was incinerated by a lower wing.

The close call had been the last straw. It had been entirely avoidable. It was an error permitted by fellis and Fe'an knew this for a fact. R'fus needed to get clean. He needed to ditch his business, stop blinking between in the dead of night to Faranth knows where. Selfishly, Fe'an needed him to be that upstanding dragonrider he had dreamed him to be. It was tearing him up. It made him sleep less, wondering how he had come from a man like that, if R'fus had been dealing when he had met his mother, if he himself was destined for a similar, sorry future.

So he stripped away his Threadfighting gear furiously. He washed only enough to get the soot away. He unclipped Onth's riding leathers and left them on the floor. His dog, Willy, panted and wagged his tail, barking for attention, but Fe'an shoved his muzzle away. "Not now, Willy," the young man fumed. "Sit. Stay." But Willy persisted.

Watch your temper, Onth said. This is not what good leaders do--

"Oh, as if you're the expert on keeping your temper," Fe'an spat. He liked the sound of his voice angry like that. It felt good in his throat. (He used to be so mild-mannered.) "He almost killed himself out there. I-- I can't--" and he snarled a frustrated sound and tore from the room. His boots ticked on the stone of the Weyr's innards as he crossed the back ways to R'fus' quarters.

---

R'fus had taken his near-death encounter mildly. It was as if he hadn't properly registered it; Eondith told him, warned him, soothed him, but the man wasn't worried. "Well, I'm still alive," he said. The dragon was not entirely satisfied by the answer, but he let it go.

R'fus had come home to Kio in his room. It was a nice surprise, but like any good dragonrider, he had things to do before he could get distracted. "You're gonna exhaust me even more," he said gruffly, half affection, half bluntness. He ran a tough hand over Kio's hair, jaw, neck. Then he went about unbuckling his jacket and climbed out of all his wherhide gear. Shirtless now, he took the bundle out into the open weyr to air out. As much as the smell of ash and smoke was a dragonrider's constant, it was not R'fus' favourite.

He undid Eondith's straps slowly, carefully, and hung them on the hooks slammed into the wall. Then, Fe'an burst in. His son.

"What in Faranth's name were you doing up there?" Fe'an demanded. He gestured wildly to the sky.

"Fightin' Thread," R'fus said. He hoped Kio would stay put, but he knew he wouldn't.

"Oh, really? What about the part where you almost died, dad?"

"Look, you don't need t'call me--"

"Yeah, I do. You're my dad. I know you didn't mean to be my dad but you are. And you're alive, thank the Egg, but barely. I-- I think you've gone way too far."

"It's an honest mistake, boy--"

"Way too far--"

"--and I don't remember askin' you t'take an interest in me. Or to babysit me. I can take care of myself."

"Can you? Can you really? Because I think I have evidence that you can't--"

"I was doin' just fine before you fell on my doorstep. Ain't nobody bothered to try cozy up to me. Never asked for it. Never needed it. Don't need you or your worryin', boy--"

"I-- but-- yes, you do! I'm... I'm your family--"

"By blood, sure, but it ain't by love."

"I--" and that stumped him. He frowned; sputtered. "You need to stop all of this. Give up the fellis, the business, all of this, or-- or you'll die, one day, because you're stupid and you-- you--" But R'fus wasn't listening anymore.

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[Nia]

Threadfall during the day was never really anything that concerned Wherhandlers, so Kio was essentially free to just sleep through the day. He always liked to wake up a good bit earlier than most Wherhandlers though, mostly because he liked to walk around and observe the Weyr as it went along doing its business. Observing things was always his favorite hobby, although lately he has something specific that he enjoyed observing. His great pal and sometimes bed buddy R'fus was incredibly enjoyable to be around, if only because Kio enjoyed the things that the Bluerider offered him. Did he actually care for the Bluerider? That was a train of thought that Kio was entirely avoiding, for now at least.

He did a few circles of the general Weyr area, watching as the Riders all made their way back from Threadfall. He took a mental note of those who had suffered injuries, as those were always the easiest to offer their product to. It seemed like a few more than usual had been injured today, perhaps they'd gone against the Weyr's announcement and eaten one of the "antidote" laced herdbeasts. At the very least, it would probably give them quite a few more clients. Cheered, Kio briskly made his way over to R'fus' weyr to tell him the good news, with Kiosk quietly padding along next to him.

Not even bothering to knock, Kio barged into the Bluerider's room and took a quick look around. To his disappointment, R'fus hadn't returned yet. That was fine, Kio knew he'd be there soon. He made himself at home, as it might as well have been his as well. Kiosk curled up in a spot off to the side that he'd claimed, one that was close to Eondith's perch, as he did enjoy the Blue dragon's prescense. Of course, not to the extent of which Kio enjoyed R'fus, but it was good that Kiosk had someone to talk to a little bit while his handler was busy.

Here, Kiosk alerted his handler as Eondith arrived in his weyr, along with his tired looking rider. Threadfighting wasn't exactly easy, was it? Kio was always happy to see R'fus' reactions to him, and leaned into the man's hand, smirking mischeviously. But of course, R'fus had his duties, and Kio was content to sit and watch him go about his dragonrider business. He gave a bit of a half flirty, half mocking whistle while R'fus worked.

Kio's plans were interupted however, as Fe'an burst into the room. The Bluehander's eyes widdened in shock for a moment, though he quickly regained his composure. Another father-son spat. Kio was starting to get quite sick of Fe'an's interferance, but for now, he stayed where he was and listened to the two fight without saying anything. Apparently R'fus had almost died today, though it didn't seem like he had any injuries at all. Fe'an was blaming the Fellis, Kio assumed, though he didn't know for sure what "going too far" meant. For all he knew, it could involve him. It likely didn't, though. Fe'an hadn't even seemed to notice he was there yet.

The only noise he made during their argument was a short laugh at R'fus' "but it ain't by love." comment, feeling somewhat arrogant that R'fus clearly cared more for him than he did for his own son. It was a good feeling, and it only made Kio a bit more sure of himself as he finally made himself known.

"Everyone dies one day," he made himself known as soon as it was obvious that R'fus wasn't going to reply to the boy anymore. "How long have you been screaming at him about this, now? It's about time you just gave up, kid. He doesn't even care about you, why would he listen to your advice?" Kio, quite frankly, was sick of all these interuptions. He kept his face calm and collected, but he was getting slightly angry just looking at the other Bluerider. He'd been looking forward to spending some time alone with R'fus, and Kio did not like having his plans interupted.

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[Reky]

Fe'an hadn't seen the blue wher tucked in the shadows by Eondith. In his fury, he hadn't thought that Kio might have been there, and when the handler came out of R'fus' room, his stomach sank and curled in on itself. Kio made him feel sick. Kio was a poison; he was sure of it. And he had wanted, so desperately, to be loved by R'fus, to be acknowledged as his son, but even after having been at Dalibor for Turns now, all of R'fus' love went to a snake.

"You," he hissed. His throat was tightening and his eyes watered, and he wasn't sure if it was the anger inside of him or the allergens from Eon and Kiosk. He sniffed pitifully, but his expression was stuff mad.

"What do you know about it?" he spat. He felt Onth catching onto his rising heartrate; the dragon's temper fueled his. "He's been getting worse. I've seen it. I refuse to believe that he was always like this, alright? I want him to get better."

"Doesn't matter what you want," R'fus said. He had hung the last of the straps, and brought Eondith's graying muzzle in to stroke the soft blue hide. His muscular back was turned to the other men.

"And you," Fe'an accused. "You probably watched all of this! You just let it sharding happen! He can't think straight half the time, he can't sleep, he's in pain - I see it when he walks - and you sit around all smug, and-- and--" He swallowed fiercely, feeling ill. His hands balled into fists. He took a hesitant step back. It hurt so much to be below Kio. It was just how he was below his mother's new courtier, below everyone, below the Weyrlings who were actually Searched. Below a fellis-dealing, skulking wherhandler.

"I'll tell our Wingleader why you slipped up," he said firmly, eyes fixing over R'fus' shoulder. Then, to Kio. "I'll-- I'll tell Weyrwoman Avalle--"

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[Nia]

Fe'an's instant reaction to him only encouraged Kio's smug attitude, and the Wherhandler just smirked in amusement at the Bluerider as he fumbled over his words. His hissed out "You" was going to be enough to fuel Kio's ego for a good sevenday, at the least. He couldn't help but let his smirk grow wider as Fe'an ranted at him. He did have a point, though. R'fus had not always been like this, but Kio found that he almost liked him better like this. The Bluerider was a good bit more relaxed than he'd been when Kio had first met him those Turns ago, though perhaps that was because Kio was a good bit more annoying back then. Their relationship had surely changed.

R'fus' comment was also appreciated, and Kio resisted the urge to start laughing. It felt like winning, and it felt good. Fe'an's clear displeasure and the fact that he was just getting so upset made Kio feel incredibly happy. Perhaps he could finally convince the boy to just leave them alone. Or make him upset enough to give up for good. Either worked for Kio, but right now he was taking this as a perfect excuse to get the boy to leave the two of them alone forever. It was about time, anyway. He'd been meaning to make time to scare away R'fus' annoying son, but the boy hadn't really shown his face for a while. Impressing a dragon had distracted him for a good while.

Kio did allow himself a short laugh at Fe'an's accusation, if only because the boy probably wasn't aware of how accurate it was. He had pushed R'fus into taking fellis again simply so he could observe the effects of it from beginning to end. However, his little bubble of amusement was popped when Fe'an did make some accurate deductions about R'fus being in pain all the time. For some reason it bothered him, but Kio wasn't about to back down from this now.

He allowed himself to openly laugh at Fe'an when he finished. He was going to tell on them? Hilarious. "I think Weyrwoman Avalle is a bit busy right now to care about some little Blueriding fellis dealers." His voice was laced with clear amusement, "How naive can you be? They don't care. In fact, your Wingleader probably knows already. Who is that, Z'an of Iron Akanith, yes?" Kio mentally brought up his list of the wings. He didn't know all of the Wingleaders just off the top of his head, but he knew of R'fus' Wingleader. "Besides, even if you told them, you have no real proof of anything. You'd probably be the one in trouble for spreading lies about your fellow Wingriders."

"You seem to think that you're significant enough to make a difference. You aren't even significant enough to make your own father care." Kio's face immediately dropped his smirk, looking serious for the first time since Fe'an arrived. He was sick of this babbling child, and if R'fus was hurting as much as he seemed to be, he didn't need to be guilted into feeling worse. Fe'an had no idea what he was doing.

He took a step closer to the boy. "So back off, and go worry about yourself. You're only making things worse for the person you are trying oh so hard to save." He gave an obvious look towards R'fus, and then back at Fe'an, locking eyes with him.

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[Reky]

The nausea and tightness in his throat only manifested more solidly as Kio spoke. Part of him did want to back up - to hole up in his room and stay there. What good could he do? Kio was right. But the fact that he was right infuriated Fe'an. He hated feeling so helpless. He hoped, desperately, that he had once seen some glimmer of good in R'fus - some respectability, some merit. He was at least dedicated, right? That had to count. And even if R'fus said he didn't love him, Fe'an loved R'fus. It was a stubborn, innate love. They were family.

His eyes kept watering and he gave up trying to make it not look like he was crying. He scowled at Kio. "I could have told them a long time ago, so you couldn't have packed up and hidden everything. I know dad keeps it all in the top drawer in his room," he said. His chest rose and fell fiercely. "You're -- you're criminals. You're doing what you did to R'fus to good people, because they pay you. You should be warning them, helping them get clean, but you don't. I think they have every right to exile you, or punish you, or-- or monitor you so you can't leave, can't keep in touch with the other dealers. I could have told them, but I didn't."

Still, everything Kio had said stung. A tear - allergies, he told himself - caught in the stubble on his cheek and held there. His fists remained clenched. He wanted to hit something. He wanted to pin it all on Kio, wanted to bash his knuckles into that sly face over and over and over again. He wanted to give him a black eye and make him wear it like the mark of a pariah.

"Besides, even if you cleared out, he's proof enough. Take away the fellis and he'll break. They'll be able to tell." The thought of that necessary evil - of taking the drug away - was an uneasy one. He hated the idea of seeing R'fus in even more pain than he was now.

"But you won't tell," R'fus said gruffly. He groaned a little and stretched his stiff body, turning away from Eondith. He moved slowly to his room. Fe'an could see the hint of a limp as he walked. "Go on home," said the father. "Leave us." And he slid behind Kio into the privacy of his room.

[/blockquote]

[Nia]

The fact that Fe'an hadn't told already was very telling, and his childish threats just got a very cruel smirk from Kio. The tears only added to how pathetic the boy looked right now, so much so that Kio couldn't think of him as anything but a boy. He was just a child that obviously had some daddy issues going on, but Kio felt no pity for him. Maybe there was a time where he would have pitied Fe'an, but the Bluerider was just so irritating that any semblence of pity Kio had for him was long gone. For Turns he'd had a good business with R'fus, and now this little brat was going to try and ruin all of his hard work.

He had to wonder if Fe'an was trying to make him feel guilty or something. If so, it wasn't working. It was just the ramblings of an upset child because his father didn't love him. Kio could see through it. His ranting about what they were doing to innocent people was quite frankly boring. Kio didn't care. The only fellis-addicted wherrybrain out there that he might feel anything for was R'fus. Fe'an's attempt at guilting him did nothing to even change Kio's facial expression. He raised an eyebrow in slight amusement, but nothing more.

Kio didn't even have to answer, though. R'fus said it for him. If it was so obvious that even R'fus picked up on it, then Kio didn't have to say it himself. "He's right," Kio added anyway, because having him on the same side of R'fus and against Fe'an would only make it hurt worse for the boy. "If you haven't told yet, then you won't tell at all," he shrugged in a noncommital way, eyeing R'fus as he slipped back into the room, but made no attempt to follow him just yet. His tired voice was irritating to hear, it meant that the fun night Kio had planned was already completely ruined and there was no salvaging it.

His anger was evident on his face only for a moment before he was back to his usual smug expression, keeping his eyes on Fe'an. "I wonder, what is it like to know that your very own father needs me so much more than he needs you?" Kio couldn't resist the urge to spit all over Fe'an while he was already down. The more hopelessness he instilled in the boy, the more likely he was going to give up and leave them alone. "Face it, already. Your daddy hates you. So, like he said. Go home, and leave us," he placed an emphasis on the word "us" just to rub it in Fe'an's face a bit more, and he turned to head back into the room after R'fus.

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[Reky]

Somewhere inside that room, Fe'an knew that R'fus was already reaching for his little glass bottle. He kept it in a larger one than the vials he used to have, stoppered with a cork. Fe'an had seen it. He saw his father drink the bitter liquid, protested it, and ultimately felt lost and betrayed at the sight of it - like any other child seeing their alcoholic father drink, or grab at his wife or look at another woman.

And outside, Kio was still there, his grating voice - smooth like silk - beating Fe'an down even farther. It's the worst feeling in the world, he thought, but he didn't say it. He didn't want to give Kio the satisfaction. His red, wet eyes and his pointless scowling were probably reward enough, though. He was stunned silent, disgusted by everything that Kio was. He knew what would happen behind that door. He knew that R'fus was willingly wrapped around Kio's finger. He knew that Kio laid with him - now he did. He had maybe suspected it, before, but he knew now, and he wanted to vomit.

Kio turned away.

Fe'an crossed the distance between them in a few swift steps. He grabbed Kio's shoulder, a fistful of hair caught in the snag, and pushed him so that his back slammed against the doorframe. He took up Kio's collar, held him to the wall, and rushed his fist into that sly, pale face. Once. Twice. He felt the sting of Kio's cheekbone on his knuckles. The skin split on both. Four times. His eyes glistened with wild, naive defiance. He felt Onth trying to get into his head and forced the dragon away.

Then, burly arms came from behind him, and they dragged him back. "Boy, that's enough," R'fus said to him, but Fe'an fought to get free to no avail. He grunted and squirmed, but R'fus - with the thin bitterness of fellis on his breath - had him held tight.

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[Nia]

His shoulder was grabbed.

Before Kio could even gather his thoughts he was shoved roughly against the door. He was stunned, and fear flashed across his face. Fe'an was a dragonrider, and stronger than Kio was. Kio didn't particularly do much to keep in shape, and he mostly depended on Kiosk to do most of the heavy duty things that Wherhandlers needed to do. While some wherhandlers needed their physical strength to be able to control their whers, Kiosk was very well-behaved and did everything that Kio asked him to. He never had to exert any sort of physical force.

His collar was grabbed and Kio's main concern was that this child had better not rip his shirt, not that he had long to consider that thought as a fist was brought down right on his face. Again, and again, and it felt like he was punched far more than he actually was. His face was bruised, he was sure his lip was bleeding from himself biting down on it in pain, and he hurt. Kio's own anger flared but he was too stunned to do anything to stop Fe'an from hitting him. He'd never expected the boy would have the balls to do anything like this. He was a weak little kid, crying because his daddy didn't love him. This was not going how Kio wanted it to go.

He finally managed to pull himself to his senses enough to sort of struggle against Fe'an's hold, but the boy was dragged back by R'fus. Kio hadn't even noticed R'fus come out of his room, though that was probably because he was a bit busy getting punched in the face. The thought made rage flare up in him, and he shakily reached up a hand to touch his bleeding and battered face. It actually hurt.

It actually hurt. Kio brushed himself off, his smug expression entirely gone and replaced with one of anger. Unrestrained anger. He clenched his own fists and moved forward to where R'fus had Fe'an held back and swung his fist into Fe'an's face. He might not be as strong as a dragonrider, but he wasn't weak. Kio slammed his fist into Fe'an's face, aiming more for his mouth than anywhere else. Break a few teeth and stop him from ever being able to talk again. He didn't punch him all that many times, perhaps only as many as Fe'an had managed to hit him with, before he stopped. Kio licked the blood that dripped from his lip, breathing heavily as he stepped back.

Kiosk had slipped out of the room during the fight. He wasn't a violent wher, but he was still there, growling and taking his position next to Kio. He was sorry. He couldn't protect His. But he would protect him now. Kiosk growled menacingly, staring down Fe'an. He'd attack, if the boy was anywhere nearby. Kio put a hand on the little Blue, only holding him back so he wouldn't maul R'fus in his rage.

Words ran through his head, but for once, Kio had nothing left to say. He just stood there staring at R'fus and Fe'an, his hand on his wher's head, taking in sharp breaths like he didn't know how to do anything else.

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[Reky]

Fe'an's head was tucked down as he struggled against his father's hold, but his eyes were kicked upwards under his brow. They were all fire and venom and hate, searing into Kio, soaking in the sight of the blood he'd drawn. Then, knuckles connected with his mouth and knocked his head to the side. Each time he tried to turn it back, another blow. And at first, he had thought he was ready for this - the inevitable - but each hit made him sink lower within himself; curl his spine back into his father, who just stood there holding him still.

He stifled a cry of pain and choked out a constricted moan instead. When Kio took his knuckles back to himself, R'fus let go of Fe'an with a force that send the son stumbling. His hand brushed the ground as he went, just barely managing not to fall outright, and he huddled there with his back to the fellis dealers. All he could taste was blood. It coated his teeth; flowed freely from his nose. He spat onto the ground in thick, ropy, red strands and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He couldn't tell if his tooth was cracked or missing, but he couldn't stomach trying to find out. In his head, Onth was furious, split between willing him home and willing him to fight. Fe'an turned, pitiful and wounded, to catch R'fus' eyes. His father looked down at him, but there was nothing there - cold, with a hint of disappointment.

Fe'an straightened up and left.

R'fus had thought about calling Kio down, but it happened so quickly that he let himself just hold Fe'an there. An eye for an eye, he told himself; Kio was owed a few swings. But even still, something having his own flesh and blood get beaten in his own arms made R'fus feel sick. He swallowed and shook his hand idly at his side, trying to find his high. A slight tingle he could hold onto, anything - he need to be up again.

He buried his face in his hands and groaned, then brushed his hands up and over his head, lifting it to look at Kio. He reached out, his fingers light on the handler's neck and his thumb hovering over the redness and blood from Fe'an's ambush.

"Shards," he sighed heavily. As much as he didn't want to, he felt the tiniest bit gutted and guilty, like he had finally become a brutish thug like the other dealer's he always despised; like maybe he should have been kinder to Fe'an? Should have kept Kio out of it? What was done was done, though, and he needed to shake his anxiety or else he would waste a perfectly good dose of fellis.

"Sorry," he said to Kio. Sorry for not telling him to leave on the first day he came here. Eondith rumbled low and soothingly from his wall, touching Kiosk's mind with understanding and calmness.

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[Nia]

For a while, Kio simply stood where he was. Breathing and watching as Fe'an picked himself up and ran. He stepped back as Fe'an tumbled forward, but it was a slight movement. He felt frozen on the spot, not out of fear but out of cold anger. He watched the blood that dripped from the boy in thick strands, from his mouth, with a slight touch of satisfaction. Kio was bleeding, yes, but he'd hit Fe'an where it hurt and the boy looked far bloodier than he was. Still, there was a gash on his cheek where the skin had split and he could already feel the skin below his eye bruising.

He couldn't feel the pain anymore, just anger and loathing as he watched Fe'an turn his back and run. Being held back by your own father while getting punched in the face was enough of a punishment for now, but Kio was not going to be merciful anymore. Kiosk growled next to him as Fe'an left, a warning that next time, he was going to get involved. Fe'an was not going to touch Kio again, not under Kiosk's watch. The reassurance and anger of his wher meant little to Kio, however, who just stood there, still feeling numb.

R'fus' touch wasn't unwanted, but Kio flinched at it all the same. It hurt. He hadn't even touched the areas where Fe'an had hit him, but having R'fus even lightly touch him made it hurt even more. He felt angry again, like he wanted to go after Fe'an and straight out murder that kid, but he didn't. He still didn't move. He took deep breaths, trying to regain control of himself. It had been a long, long time since he was this angry. In fact, despite all the people who probably wanted to punch him over the Turns, Fe'an was the first one to actually do it. It was a new experience. Kio didn't like it.

He straightened up after a moment, out of his hunched battle stance and into a more composed posture. He brushed R'fus' hands away and assessed the damage himself, gingerly touching his lip and the area under his eye.

It hurt and he couldn't get over it. R'fus' apology made Kio make eye-contact with him, and the Bluehandler kept his eyes on R'fus for a few moments, staying quiet. What was there to say? Weakness was not anything he would ever show to R'fus, the closest he ever got to that was perhaps when Kiosk had decided to chase Ausk. But this time, he was in full control. His expression was carefully constructed as to not reveal anything.

"Do you have anything to treat this in your weyr? I don't want to go the infirmary. They'll ask unnecessary questions," he finally said, trying to keep his voice with the usual smug tone to it, but his cold anger was still there, making his words monotone.

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[Reky]

R'fus' eyes were half-lidded as he watched Kio's guarded features. Somewhere else, in another weyr farther off, Fe'an had rushed back to Onth, tripping on the stairs more than once and wrecking his shins. He was throwing a chair across the room, cursing, weeping, and Onth was berating him and he was yelling back and they were both very angry and frustrated. But R'fus was calm, and his hand was slow when he took it back to himself. He nodded.

"Yeah, o' course," he said, because numbweed and redwort, at least, were a cheap cover for the fellis he left on his top shelf. 'Just in case,' he'd say, 'for little scrapes,' but no one ever came into his room who didn't know his darker business. He caught his hand around Kio's waist as he sauntered into his room, gently pulling him in, but let go as he passed. He took the bottle of redwort and jar of numbweed and set them none-too-gently on the bed. "Probably just the redwort's enough," he said. "Want help?" Kio's own slender fingers would be infinitely gentler than R'fus', but the bluerider was tender when he needed to be.

He sat on the edge of the bed and let out a heady moan. He could feel the prickles of numbness in his feet and hands; a soft cradle of cotton curling in his skull. The dose of fellis would have fully anesthetized anyone else, but for R'fus' tolerance it was enough to feel comfortable, normal, and cushioned. There was a was a waterskin on the bedside table and a cloth in the drawer, and he grabbed those as an afterthought and wet the cloth for Kio. A burnished tin mirror rested on the dresser if the handler needed it.

"Doesn't look too bad," R'fus offered. Already his voice was softer; less gravelly. He felt good. Fe'an was already slipping his mind.

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