A pretty city...not as much as its name implies, but decent enough. It has more than its share of quirky artist sorts roaming around, but they're almost all human. A few "streets" of the city really are channels, but these are primarily tourist and artistic attractions, and most of the roads just have cars on them.

---

Commander in chief, five star general, father of two daughters and two incestuous grandchildren. War hero, war villain, peacemaker, benevolent tyrant, malicious savior. Revilier Omeaux ponders everything he's become as he sits on the patio at Dandridge's, taking a light lunch of vermicelli al dente and alfredo sauce on the side. A bottle of ancient red Bordeaux chills in a silver-colored cooler at his right arm. A bouquet of baby blue frost-lilies lies in front of the only other chair at the table.

For all purposes he looks the perfect part of a fashionable young local. He'd studied Venice's styles for quite a while before hopping into a chopper, and had instantly decided that the tight jeans and tucked-rose shirt under a wine-colored button down look works very well for him... even if he does feel an odd impulse to don a cowboy hat.

She's taking her time. He's decided that he will not be annoyed with her for lateness but, if she doesn't show, he'll have wasted a mountain of money on the drink. He fidgets with his place setting, rolling it back and forth. Rehearses what he wants to say again, and decides that he shouldn't say it. He should have let Jasne come, she's so good at keeping him grounded. Should have brought Prata. She needs a vacation.

Should have stayed home.

Well. She is coming a lot farther, after all. Yin's had time to carefully get her act together by now, washing her face twice and meticulously reapplying her makeup to hide any remaining trace of her solitary outburst. Can't really do much to hide the cheek slash Prata had given her, although it's already beginning to close. Being undead has its perks. She paints over the redness surrounding it with perfectly blended concealer, reducing its impact considerably.

Breathes out. Revilier...she isn't sure how she feels about that. Knows how she should. But he confuses her so much. All that she can really think about when he comes to mind is him touching her with those literally magical hands of his. It had felt wonderful, sure, but...damn. It doesn't make sense. It's not like she's all that infatuated with sex, or that she couldn't get it from any number of comptent men. It's not just the intimate parts either...that's what really confuses her. Rubbing her neck, her shoulders, just him being close...that's what you think of a lover. But she's sure she isn't infatuated with him, or thinks she is...sure, Arux doesn't have much--well, anything--on the Golden Wyvern in the looks department, but...her choice is made on that one.

But why, when even Arux touches her, can she only think of Revilier?

Puzzles over this idly. But that's not what she wants to know. Alou. Shudders inwardly at an unbidden flashback of the spider right when he'd come back. Remembers why.

Her fault.

All of these get shoved aside as she approaches the diner. Tries to clear her thoughts so she doesn't miss anything coming next. Her usual black cowboy hat is tipped forward over her horns, and she's gone with a long, loose, tight-where-convenient white top over leather pants. The outfit can't conceal much in the way of weaponry. Smiles at the host and notes that she's meeting someone--Revilier, to her, had been hard to miss out on the patio--and it isn't long before she seats herself quietly at the table, crossing her legs. "You look a thousand miles away."

He actually pauses a moment before answering. Shit. He'd been lost in thought when she came, a terrible thing to do on such a fragile mission.

"I was thinking about my daughters," he admits, looking to her with those crisp eyes of his. "Those flowers are for you. Are you hungry... oh. Nevermind, stupid question." He's actually blushing. Just a little, just barely enough to color his cheeks. "Have some wine, Yin. I'm told it has practically gone senile with age."

She smiles a bit. "Thank you." Unopened, a nice touch considering her overwhelming paranoia of everything. She admires the flowers quietly as a waiter does the honors. Isn't sure what to say, really, once their glasses are filled and they're alone again. "The flowers are lovely." Good choice.

"Jasne told me what to get you," he admits. "Being an ice dragoon, she thought frost lilies." Looks away. Awkward. Get to the point. "Thank you for rescuing my daughter the other day, Yin."

"It was my pleasure. Besides, I like Prata." Holds her wine beneath her nose a thoughtful moment, and sips it. Well. That's better than anythign she's likely to ever drink again.

Revilier swirls his around the glass a moment. Sips. God, this stuff costs too much. He's very much a minimalist as far as his comestibles go. "She likes you. Looks up to you. She's only thirty, practically a child, and you... well, you are who you are. But I didn't bring you here to kiss your ass, Yin." Pauses. "I want to help your spider friend."

"He could use it," the vampiress notes, eyes darkening thoughtfully. "He's not going to walk again. Or speak again."

"He's going to do both." Another sip of the wine. He'd kill for a beer. "I can heal him, Yin. You are the only dragon I could trust to talk to about this. The only way I can heal him is to have him brought to me." He looks to one side. "There's no telling what might happen to me if I set foot on Dragon soil openly. Though I can promise it would be ill-advised to."

For just a moment, it flashes through her mind that she wishes he were healing her, then...fuck! Shut up! That's silenced immediately. It's really starting to piss her off. Her thoughts are guiltily back on Alou. She considers, gazing thoughtfully at the table. Frowns a little. Finally... "Kaz would never let it fly. Not only not permit it, but almost certainly physically stop it."

Revilier nods. "I thought about that. There is another solution, but it would involve you trusting me." Looks around. "A good way to start would be for your reinforcements to come and have some wine. They shouldn't hide if it is obvious they're there."

"Oh. Major Fiexnah doesn't think I know, he implied that he was only sending one. He bugged me, too." One corner of her lips twitches upward, though it's only half funny. Okay, so she's on extremely thin ice with all her superiors. Sips her wine. "Someone seems to have forgotten who taught whom how to bug people." This bit, of course, isn't really intended for Revilier.

"Well, they're welcome to it." He looks aside. Back up to her, into her eyes, deep into them. "Are you willing to trust me, Yin?"

She nearly squirms under his gaze. It's disconcerting to lock gazes so completely with someone so...lucid. "I...don't know." It's honest, anyway. Very much so. Finally looks aside. "You bother me."

He smiles a charming smile. "Well. Now is a good time to figure out why, when there are guns trained on my head and I don't have the luxury of lying to you."

She has to smirk a little. Well. Whatever else he is, he's amusing right in time with her particular sense of humour. Part of her brain says "that's what people say when they're trying to lull you into a false sense of security and actually have an army in the gallery next door"...but she tries to shut it up. That idea isn't helpful even if it turned out, against odds, to be right. She's quiet for a fairly long time, really. The next question counts. She may only get one, if this goes badly. Weighs. Decides. Finally...

"There was something done to me in the Tower, wasn't there?" She looks back up to him. There was, she's sure of that. "A drug. Something."

Revilier sips his wine. Ugh.

"No. No drugs, no injections. No chips, no implants. Why do you ask?" He's still looking at her with that disarming gaze.

At this point, she's returning it. Not to say she's not still intimidated--in terms of presence, the wyvern is three of her, minimum. But she's confident in this one. "Slight, budding, distinct withdrawl symptoms. Psychological and slight physical." Swirls her wine slowly and thoughtfully. "Vampires rarely get sick, and I haven't put anything applicable into myself." This is a discussion she'd had time to consider on the plane.

"It's possible that they are just comedown effects from the healing. Unless you haven't yet recovered entirely." He tilts his head a little. "I can cast my spell again, if you want...?"

Oh, god she wants him to. Tries to mask this, though it probably somes through a little bit. "I'm fine. The only thing wrong with me is this cut, and it should heal of its own accord by...tomorrow..." stiffens. Stops dead, actually. She'd been looking out over the nearby channel...her head snaps back to Revilier. The spell. She's been fantasizing about his touch, his hands. His glowing hands, always glowing. A pause. Evidence linking up here and there, silently.

Revilier tilts his head over. "You look shocked. Did I say something wrong?"

After a few moments, Ellen closes her eyes. A small smile threads across her lips. "This is...so well played," she finally observes, softly. She's making assumptions. Guesses. But throws out something she hopes is close. Opens her eyes, gazing back at him, and sips her wine. "Your spell. It's addictive, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't know, Ellen." The wyvern general sits back, a little unnerved at that smirk. "Are you accusing me of someting?"

"I'm still deciding." She's quite calm. "Wrapping me around your little finger. Attaching and attracting me to you in a dozen different ways." Fiddles with the flowers absently. They really are gorgeous...and, really, she's just the lightest touch heartbroken. "Allowing Alou to be so seriously injured that he'd need your help, too, and be affected by something that would bind you to him, too." Her eyes dim a bit at this last bit without her direct consent. If she's right or wrong...Alou's still in deep trouble. "I could be wrong, of course. It wouldnt' be the first time in these last few months." Closes her eyes, smile forced to return. "But then, how often does every piece of a puzzle just happen to fall together when you least expect?"

The general leans back in his chair. "When a puzzle is what you think it is until something changes it and some unrelated piece falls into the last place." He's quiet a moment. She wants him to be the bad guy, deep down. He can see that. "I did want you wrapped around my finger. At first it was because you had information and connections I could use. That ended three minutes after meeting you. The second reason was because... I don't know why. I just wanted it that way." Stops again, long enough to sip. "Brandt attacked Alou. He did try to kill me, after all, what was I supposed to do with him? Hug him and set him free? I had no intention of keeping him chained up, but I made the mistake of thinking nothing catastrophic would happen for half an hour without me. Brandt died for it, and he deserved it. I'm rambling, forgive me."

It's quiet. Yin finally sighs softly, leaning her forehead on her hand. For a few moments, she looks more like she's a hundred and ten than fifty. Before she shoves that back down as usual. This is why Revilier bothers her. She can't nail him down. No matter what she says or does...she can't just peg him. Not as a good guy, or a bad guy, or even a neutral party. That never happens to her. Finally, voice slightly more telling of what her life is like right now despite instructions to the contrary. No longer challenging, not really. "That spell. You must have been using it a long time. On enough people, that it would be obvious, or not. Is it binding...or isn't it?"

"It can be," the general admits. "There have been forms derived from my spell that do have withdrawal symptoms. Not mine. Mine is pleasure and comfort, and the only thing that addicts anyone to it is that it feels beautiful. Just like any adrenaline high. Roller coaster, a tasty cookie, a talented lover. One wants more."

Yin's quiet a bit, just kind of gazing at nothing. Searching herself on the matter. She doesn't know why. She really doesn't, but...she believes him. Finally, softly...

"What was your other idea involving Alou?"

He finally pushes the wine out of the way. "I want to teach you my spell, so you can heal him on your own." He actually stumbles over the words a little.

She blinks slowly. Looks up to him. "I don't have much knowledge base to draw from. Dragoon abilities are very specific and instinctive; we aren't as trained in magic as most think."

"Neither am I. The spell can only be learned through intense exposure to it." Revilier holds out his hand, glowing softly with golden light and showing off the symbol over his skin. "I am not addicted to the one who taught me. But I leave it up to you." Of course, the one who taught him died long ago. Its moot, though.

Ellen can almost hear Arux having a coronary. Hopes--hopes no one does anything stupid. Considers this and that. "How sure are you that this will work?"

"As sure as I am that I wish I hadn't paid so much for rich people drink." Revilier glares at the bottle. Looks back at Yin, smiling. "As sure as I am that I want to make up my crimes to you."

Ellen looks down. She's throwing away her last slim hope of reinstatement, and she knows it. To receive a favor from the highest rival general...but what's one more bridge? Dragoons won't hire her. Spiders won't after earlier. She could even lose Arux...or at least he'll be mad at her. And the barest chance that she could be Yin again...

Alou.

She looks up. Nods a little. "How does this happen?" she inquires softly.

The general is not blind to her difficulties. Not at all. He holds his hand out on the table, palm up, gazing at her. "You take my hand, and I give you my gift. You will know it without the need for explanation. You just have to trust me." Looks down at his hand. "I couldn't blame if you can't."

Yin gazes a few moments at the sterile white tablecloth. Back up to the general's more or less effeminate face. Mostly, his eyes, as though looking for something. Finally takes a deep breath...and takes his hand.

He smiles at her, warm, and encouraged. "Brace yourself," he softly whispers, as the golden glow begins to rise around his hand. It sends its energies into her skin, searching for her body's pleasure receptors and attempting to stimulate them one by one at first. The cut on her cheek seals.

She catches her breath, just...speechless. Overwhelmed pleasure. Bliss, and shock. She almost pulls back from his touch, but just barely keeps herself from doing so...though the jury is out on whether, if she'd wanted to, she could have convinced her body to.

Another patron raises an eyebrow. An older couple walking by quickly huddles for discussion. What is he doing, giving her a handjob under the table?

The general doesn't let go of her hand. Not yet, not for about a hundred and twenty seconds. The power behind the spell rises vastly over the next ten, amplifying the effects. He is, after all, burning the spell into her cells' memory.

"The spell causes a pleasant reaction to mask what it does beyond. When I healed you before you felt little of it, as much of the spell's energy went to sealing your wounds." He's speaking mostly to keep others from thinking the wrong thing much more than they need to.

It takes her a moment to manage her response, though it probably hadn't been expected. "What exactly is it masking...? Healing's good." Red flag. But too late.

"Regeneration of tissue requires a breakdown of existing tissue for raw materials. Without the pleasure, the healing process might be more painful than you would be willing to undertake." He stands, still holding her hand, and walks around the table to stand next to her. "It produces adrenaline and endorphins so the recipient feels none of the pain." Looks into her eyes. Her entire body should be wrapped in the pale yellow light by now.

And it is. She vaguely tastes blood in the back of her mouth. But she feels no pain. Her eyes are...not so much glazed, as inward. Feeling, and it's wonderful, but...she's paying attention to what's going on. Trying. How she feels, what it's doing. Is still breathless. "Like if you happen to be a vampiress involved with a heavy light-based spell." Grins a bit, one fang more or less baring. "Gotcha."

The general releases her hand. Steps back. "You do," he murmurs, watching the golden aura still gleaming around her hand without his touch. "You should feel it. The knowledge of how to do it is passed this way." He grabs his coat. "But trust is of paramount importance. You never trusted me fully, Yin." Drops some money on the table, for the tip and check.

She looks down and aside. "That's not something I do well for anyone."

"Maybe it is something you should learn to do." He pauses. Now or never. "I know you've fallen out of favor with Kaz. If you need a place to go, I have a captain position open in my cabinet. I won't pressure you. In fact, you can leave right now if you want, heal Alou, and never think about me again."

She frowns a little as she gazes thoughtfully at her hand. What she says next...isn't really what she wants to. It's genuine concern for her fellow soldiers...people she'd served with, and depended on, and commanded. "I can't. Even if I've been dishonourably discharged, turning around and throwing my hat in for you would be viewed by dragons as treason. It could be used to deeply hurt the already scrutinized dragoon armed forces, possibly damningly if it were twisted into a larger question of dragoon loyalty to dragonkind." Stands, and straightens her hat, cheeks still flushed.

Revilier gives her a little smile. Needs that cowboy hat so he can tip it about now.

"Goodbye, then. You may have this Bordeaux, if you want it. If you change your mind, you know where to find me, Yin." He smiles at her, still looking into her eyes as though he's searching for something he just can't find. "Don't let them call you something else. You aren't your name, Yin. Your name is you." Nearly chokes on the words. Fuck. He likes her, wanted to keep her close by, wanted a chance to finish what he'd started at the tower. He just... doesn't have anything else to say. Doesn't feel like trying to persuade her, and his pride is beginning to nudge him about flying a few thousand miles, paying huge bucks for a bottle of ritzy grape juice, buying her flowers, and giving her something he has guarded so jealously that even when Adelisa had begged him for his spell he had out and out refused. His stomach shuts down, unable to swallow it any more.

When he turns to walk away, unable to admit that he's a little bit heartbroken, he doesn't notice the quivering, tiny red dot that appears on the back of his hair.

If Yin had Menayen-ears, they'd be sagging. She starts to say something...eyes widen. Regretful statements get superceded. "Down!" A small ice shield she doesn't trust, just as she springs to shove him out of the way and get between him and the shooter.

Despite his mood, Revilier Omeaux is and always has been a soldier. At Yin's cry he instinctively started to duck, though his head snaps forward when a .308 bullet shatters the ice shield sidelong and whiplashes his neck.

Gunfire erupts all around, shattering the bordeaux.

A sharp cry announces Yin's right scapula shatteirng, but it's pretty much lost in the screaming cacophony that results from dining civilians suddenly being thrust into a firefight. The ex-dragoon pitches a metal patio table over on its side with her good shoulder to give she and Revilier a few moments of cover, dragging him behind it with her. She doesn't think they'd make it all the way inside.

Lets out her breath, leaning her head against the table. Smirks despite pain after a few moments. "Hey, can we call this a date so I have a new 'you won't believe how this one ended' story?" This as she scans for a way out.

"I was about to ask the same thing." Revilier shakes his head. Lights are flashing in his vision, alternating with black patches from the whiplash. Sparks and shrapenel are flying everywhere, but he has enough presence of mind to raise a sheet of metal between them and the gunfire.  "I guess those aren't your people...?"

Shakes her head. ".308s aren't standard issue, and no one from my unit uses one as a first choice that I know of. Damnit. Now I wish I was a jackass so I'd actually have brought a gun. Hey, can you give me a small, thin sheet of shiny metal?"

The general nods. Neck throbs, is absolutely killing him. In his outstretched hand what she asks for forms, almost as if bleeding out of his skin. ".308 is standard for my people... are you sure that's what it is?"

"Pretty sure." Points briefly across at a column not too far from them that has a bullet imbedded high in it. "Close, and it's obvious semi-automatic, so I'd be willing to bet a strategy on it." Takes the metal. "Thanks." Lays a convenient fondue fork against the back of it, and a layer of very clear, smooth ice crystalizes over the pair, making a perfect mirror. Holds this up by the fork to see over the top of their table, looking for their assailants.

There's only one. A woman, in a body-clinging polymer armor suit, and far enough away that Yin should only just be able to make out the soft features of Adelisa Omeaux.

Yin's face gains a shade of white. How to even...er...approach this? "You...er...may know the shooter..." Holds out the mirror.

His face goes gray. Ashen. "Adelisa...?" Another bullet slams into the sheet of metal. "Your people, where are they?"

"I could swear I heard returned fire once...but only once. I don't have a clue, it doesn't make sense. I'm worried about them." Takes the mirror back. Narrows her eyes, and lets out her breath...that stone arch behind the Grace...narrows her eyes, it's hard to do this perfectly, remotely. Threads of ice thread into and under the foundation. When they're all in place, they suddenly expand suddenly and all at once to a sickening stone crack.

Adelisa moves, and she moves fast, leaving her spent rifle behind. Rubble crashes behind her, but she's moving now, a close-sawed shotgun tugged from her belt. The metallic screen Revilier had put up warps suddenly, trying to shove Yin and Revilier into the open. At the same time a spike rips up from the ground, skewering the half-conscious general's leg to a screech of pain.

Damnit...she doesn't want a bullet still in there, but Yin, after just a moment's hesitation, sets her hand to her own back. Several spear-sharp spires of ice attempt to sprint in front of and into and mysteriously pissed off Grace to buy time. Meanwhile, the same symbol burns to life on the back of her own hand--not identical...the symbol is plainly the same, but the script is more flowing than the General's crisp, utilitarian mark--trying to seal the wound and knit her shoulderblade.

It does. As Yin's shoulder restores, Adelisa ducks and dodges, slaps away icicle spears with sheets of steel that circle her forearms. Her eyes, expression are cold, full of murderous intent.

"Have to flee," Revilier growls, jerking the spike out of his leg. "My chopper is behind the bistro. Can you fly...?"

You know, in any other profession, that question would be enough to get him committed. Shakes her head as a thick archer's shield begins to crystalize on her restored arm. Still hurts like hell--there's a bullet in her back, damnit--but at least it works. "No, but I can probaby cover you."

Revilier drags himself up, ignoring the searing pain in his leg. He doesn't have the strength to heal himself, not now. He tries to run for the chopper, dodging the spikes and projectiles his Silver daughter places in his path.

Yin's phone rings. 

The vampiress's six foot shield is busy, but she thinks she's got him covered from the back if he can watch his front, trying to angle herself to be solidly between Revilier and his apparently estranged daughter at all times. Thick ice, as it turns out, is actually better for bullets than thin metal. It is heavy, though. Picks up the phone with her left hand. "Talk quickly."

"It's Kaz," a tired-sounding Serinian's voice floods over the phone. "You're in danger. As soon as Revilier left Julen Adelisa seized control of the tower. Prata's sitting in a Dragon prison, she never made it out of the airport. Adelisa set her up. She set the Mediators on her and she's going to kill Revilier and take everything."

"Oh. Yeah, I've got a bullet in my back somewhere. Revilier's in worse shape than I am, but I'm hoping to cover him back to his chopper; he worries me a lot less than Adelisa, who I've concluding is a fucking psycho. Anything else?" A piece of ice pings out of her shield at a bullet from the front, right into her forehead. "Ow...! Poetry in motion here. Please tell me there aren't any mediators here."

"I don't know. I don't have surveillance there. Pending though."

Revilier clicks a keyring, and the doors of what looks like an AH-120 attack chopper swing open for them. He drags himself inside, weary from blood loss. 

Adelisa tosses her shotgun aside. Okay, hardball. A concussion grenade sails up and - hopefully - over her ice shield.

Yin grits her teeth. Drops her cell phone, pulls back that hand, and flings a javelin-esque shard of ice to meet the grenade in mid-air before it gets too close to the chopper...and hits the dirt, shield falling over the top of her.

Ice shards shoot in all directions as the grenade detonates and eviscerates the shield. Revilier gets the engine going. Prepares the 20mm machine guns attached to the chopper's belly.

Adelisa keeps coming, keeps coming.

Yin coughs as she shoves herself up on her hands...coughs up a fang, actually, shaky and dazed. She's positive she'd broken at least half her ribs and completely shattered a foot. The broken thing is frozen encased in ice, a makeshift cast. To say nothing of concussions. "Not to shelf:" she murmurs, spitting... "do not argue with grenades." Numbly picks up the cell phone as she stumbles to her feet. The display screen is cracked, it's anyone's guess as to whether it still works. She's running really low on power, too...she won't be able to work with ice much longer. Thus, it's her oldest and most useful trick, covert as ever, that she tries to pull as she turns her back to Adelisa and tries to see whether she still has time to get to the helicopter...ice in her guns.

It actually works. Adelisa throws down her shotgun, eyes blazing, but unable to get to the chopper in time.

As soon as Yin is in, the door slams shut and the chopper lurches heavily into the air, spinning, winging away from a chaotic Venice.

"Where...?" the general, face as white as a sheet, looks to Yin. Glad she's okay.

"I don't know..." the vampiress pants, working on catching her breath. She doesn't bother to get up to a chair, just leans against the door, sitting on the floor. Begins poking her cell phone. Can't feel her right hand after holding that damned heavy shield so long, but tries. "Diwedote, wux lotha riika..." she murmurs at it. "Kaz told me that Adelisa seized control of the tower as soon as you left. Prata was arrested as soon as she got off the pl..." tears off a strip of her shirt to spit into. There's an accomodatingly long pause. "...plane. That she was going to kill you and 'take everything' and that she's the one who set the mediators on Prata. Then there was a minor incident involving a cell phone and a grenade, so I don't have more yet."

"We can't go back there, then," the, supposedly former, general growls. "I'd heard rumors about her. Spreading false claims about me, about our children." He blinks, staring forward. "The tower." He looks at Yin, eyes glazed. "The tower bombing. It was Adelisa. It was all Adelisa, and it happened right in front of me...!"

Yin sighs. ...ugh. As hard as things have been for her...she is not dealing with with something this devastating. Shock still, but...even so. Forces herself to stand up and covers the two feet to the co-pilot's seat beside him. "You couldn't have known. Care about her too much, you're guilty of being her father, that's it." Sets the phone--she can't tell if it's working or not, the keypad doesn't work anyway--on the instrument panel in front of her as she sink-falls into the chair. Breathes out slowly. "Are you okay to pilot?"

"Not far," the general answers, "I've lost too much blood. Femoral artery, I think its cut." Its a lethal wound for a human, somewhat less so for a wyvern. He turns his head. Wanting to look at her, fighting to keep his attention on the stick. That was the puzzle Yin had been talking about. Every inside job, every setup, every plan that Revilier could have orchestrated his children could just as easily have been behind. Even some that he couldn't have, such as leading Embriel to Yin all those months ago.

"Back to Okarthel...?"

"Yeah." She hopes the bug is still working. Probably not, but it will prevent confusion later. Gazes thoughtfully at her hand. Damn, but she's worn out from all the ice-casting...takes a few moments before a golden glow manifests, faintly at first before finally managing to take. Okay, so this is ten kinds of awkward, but...she glances down to his lap. It's not hard to find the spot...well, at least it's not right by his crotch. Presses her hand over it gently. "Don't worry about passing out. I've got a second set of controls right here, and can get us there no problem."

"That's good," he mumurs, eyes starting to close. The pain fades, and it feels a little nice to boot. "I might just do that." He manages to keep himself composed, though, most of the way to Okarthel before the blood loss and whiplash just drain him too much to stay awake.