Archive of Our Own ^beta

Ho’olheyak sees its shadow first, the light shifting hues through the water. 

The sun has begun to set at her back, casting long shadows throughout Rhodes. From this angle, it feels as if the ship’s towering for miles; that is to say, anyone attempting to get the jump on her at this particular moment doesn’t stand a chance.

Why she’s being sneaky about it, Ho’olheyak doesn’t know. But it pisses her off with just how bad Muelsyse is at it.

Her tail lashes out, splitting the water and causing the clone to fall beneath its own weight. A few seconds pass, and it wobbles to life again, an amalgamation struggling to take form. Ugh. And she thought that she was gross.

“Whatever happened to simple ‘hello’s?” Ho’olheyak muses aloud, rolling over so that her back rests against the railing. “I would love to get up to speed with you in a less soggy and threatening way. You don’t mind, do you?”

Muelsyse’s clone pulls itself into shape. It's a nauseating thing, its mouth barely formed before it gets words out. “I didn’t know that Rhodes Island was in the practice of hiring people like you.”

“What?” Ho’olheyak rolls her eyes. “You can’t seriously think that our dearest Doctor needs to keep you updated on every little thing they’re up to, do you?”

It is to satisfying effect, seeing the clone gain just enough semblance of a face only to contort itself into an expression of displeasure. “It’s less a matter of being informed, and more one of principle.”

“…right.” She picks at her fingernails. They’ve grown long in their disuse. “Well? Out with whatever drivel you’ve come here for.”

The clone pauses. Then, “I’m here to request your assistance.”

“Oh?” Ho’olheyak lets her head roll, her feathers ruffling down the side of her neck. “From me? I know that I’m easy to be impressed by, but I’m inclined to think you’d be a lot more willing to pair up with someone different than I, given the chance.”

“Believe me, I would.” The space where the clone’s eyes would be move around in a way half-similar to an eye roll. “The Doctor seems to have specifically requested you, though. I’d looove to experience Sargon at this time of year with dear Saria, but, mm.” It cradles its face in blob hands. “I’m not really in a position to refuse such a special and specific request. Nor,” a stare, “are you, right?”

“Hm.” Ho’olheyak lets out a sigh. The winter chill causes her breath to come out cold, and it breaks against the clone’s face. “I’m given the impression that that’s not a problem that concerns me.”

A blink. “You’re not serious, right?”

“Me?” She smiles as sweetly as she can. “Deadly.”

-

Or perhaps less deadly. She’s not easily convinced, but she has her prices.

A note slid across the table, Kal’tsit’s crossed arms. Ho’olheyak raises a brow. “And this is?”

“An operation for an operator,” Kal’tsit says. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you? You’re well aware of the drill.”

She rolls her eyes, reaches for the card with the end of her tail. “Yes, that’s my point. Why take the time to organize a meeting when…”

Ho’olheyak trails off as she reads the scrawl on the card. A security mission in Sargon.

Well, shit.

“Beneath me,” she says with a flourish, turning on her heel. Kal’tsit pauses mid-sentence, pursing her lips.

“You’re not in such a privileged position that you’ll be allowed to simply pick and choose like this.”

“Mm.” Ho’olheyak glances over her shoulder. “I’ve made it clear, both in words and results, that I work best alone. For both my sake and anyone else who might be on this mission, you’d be best with either taking me or my dear co-worker off.”

Kal’tsit shakes her head. “That isn’t an option. Muelsyse’s background as Director of Ecology is specifically why she was called from Rhine Lab to assist with this mission. Her particular expertise in-”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ho’olheyak takes another step, waving her off. “Then I’m not needed.”

Kal’tsit motions at the card, still held firmly by Ho’olheyak’s tail. “You didn’t read that thoroughly, did you? Give it another pass.”

Ho’olheyak flips it over. In an uncommon gesture, her heart jumps.

-

‘Migraines’ doesn’t begin to describe half of it.

When she was younger, there was no difference between ‘painful’ and ‘painless’ moments. There was only ‘what was’, and ‘what was’ was a constant outpouring of feelings and thoughts and deaths that weren’t her own. It was only when she’d grown that the feeling began to abate, and she realized, oh. It doesn’t always need to be like that.

There’s a part of her, small and traitorous and actually her, that resents them for it. Not the ancestors whose memories are carefully filed away, meticulously and with every ounce of heartfelt-ness she could scrounge up- those beings received a fierce sort of empathy that came from finding a common drive.

No, for all of what made her her, she still curled her lip at the Arts that had plied its way into her skull, dripping and fervent to have her serve as yet another instrument of passage. She’d been a baby when it happened, for all goodness sake.

Of course, the smarter part of her realizes: what had to be done was done, and done well. The cost was barely relevant, an idea that she and Kristen had agreed on time and time again.

And these were thoughts that had been reaffirmed by that god-thing itself, shimmering half-mirages through her eyes. Less a promise and more a proof of result: if done right, very few remember the papercuts they bore on the path to success.

Or none success, as it were. A dull fart onto all her hard work, a drill into the head of frankly, you nor any of them particularly mattered. The sort of thing that might drive a lesser person to despair and suicide, but really just made Ho’olheyak languid with boredom (and maybe something else, but that bit hardly mattered).

That was all a very dramatic way of saying that Ho’olheyak knew that, rationally, she’d far more regret not going on this operation and the fruits it held, but it did little to ease the temporary pain that came with facing Muelsyse.

“Isn’t it exciting?” Muelsyse says as the truck they’re going to take gets loaded up, mechanics doing second and third passes at the condition of the car. “It’s just like Trimounts all over again!”

“As I recall it, our encounters in Trimounts held a pointedly different air,” Ho’olheyak points out lazily, picking at yet another nail. This time it’s clean. “Unless you found being stuffed into a suit as something actively stimulating? In which case, I’m all for bringing back good memories.”

“Mmmm…” Muelsyse taps her chin. “No no, the part that I was remembering is when you ran away from me with your icky tail between your legs.”

Ho’olheyak’s eye twitches. “A tactical retreat that you failed to prevent. In that scenario, I certainly held the upper-”

“Whateeeever you say,” Muelsyse spins around, hands held out to the side. “Let's just get along nicely and sweetly, okay?

-

Ho’olheyak’s a loner, but she’s not one for the practice of paranoia.

You don’t need to know someone’s entire background to know how they’ll act. Muelsyse’s theory in action in that regard, an annoying little thing that flinches when it sees so much as a fleck of originium and’ll do anything short of trying to live longer.

Namely, what this translates to is: Ho’olheyak can put her feet on the dashboard without much issue.

Muelsyse lets out a small noise when it happens, and Ho’olheyak opens a lazy eye to glance at her. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” Her gaze swivels back to the road. “I’m just realizing that someone with such a gross tail has gross feet to match.”

Ho’olheyak laughs. “Not a fan of tails, are we? I must say, if you’re not careful, someone might mistake that as some sort of prejudice sometime soon.”

“It’s not a prejudice,” Muelsyse says. “I just don’t like you very much.”

“Me?” Ho’olheyak’s lashes flutter, and a hand chases her neckline. “Really. But everyone says I’m oh-so sweet… are you certain you’ve not mistaken me for someone else?”

Muelsyse scoffs, falls silent. Ho’olheyak lets it stretch out between them, and goes to sleep without worry.

-

She thought she knew the Sargon sky, once.

The way the stars looked and when they’d look that way, the heaviness in the clouds, the undertone of the wind. Once upon a time, those were changes that she and every other K’uk’ulkan had known so intimately that they might as well be written in stone.

It’s off putting, then, when every ounce of her being looks up and sees something different.

The stars are similar, but brighter. The clouds stretch a little further in the sky. And of course, the moons that hum far past any place that they have the right to make the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. In any other place, she would’ve found it nice. But here…

“It’s weird, right?”

Ho’olheyak’s neck snaps to attention as she finds Muelsyse to her side, propping herself up on a water-made chair. “I still haven’t gotten used to it… though honestly, I don’t think I ever will,” she shrugs. “But in a few dozen years, it's all anyone being born will ever know, right?” She turns to face Ho’olheyak. “I think that’s a little scary.”

Ho’olheyak huffs. “It’s your problem if you can’t get used to a little weather change.”

Now it’s Muelsyse’s turn to laugh, scratching her cheek almost guilty. “Hehe, maybe.”

The campfire crackles brightly between them, hot and full of smoke. Now this is something she is familiar with, something near-unpredictable and violent. Sometimes she fantasizes about slipping her hand in, just to see what it feels like.

(Not that she needs to wonder, there were already a good handful of ancestors who had graced her with gifts of burning alive.)

“How’re you feeling?”

Ho’olheyak’s eyes dart over to Muelsyse. The chair she’d been sitting on has melted into the ground, and now she sits cross-legged atop the grass. Ho’olheyak lets her tail thrash through it, just in the way she knows Muelsyse dislikes it. 

“‘Fine’. What do you want me to say?” She props her hand up on her chin, rolling her eyes. “Do you actually care enough to drag out a pointless conversation? It’s late. The best thing to do now is sleep.”

“I wouldn’t call it pointless.” Muelsyse rocks back and forth, tapping her chin. “More like… ‘a baseline question to start inquiry’ with, maybe?” She smiles.

“...I don’t have the patience to entertain that sort of thing tonight.”

“It doesn’t have to be tonight! Or even soon, I just.” Muelsyse puffs her cheeks out. “Going back to the question! How are you feeling?”

Ho’olheyak grits her teeth into a smile, lets her tongue flicker. “I said already, didn’t I? Fine.”

“Thaaat sounded like a cop-out!” Muelsyse wags a finger. “And even if it isn’t, what does ‘fine’ mean, anyway! It’s some vague gesture at ‘normal’, but if anyone’s normal, it’s certainly not you!”

Ho’olheyak thrashes her tail once more, then gets even more annoyed when Muelsyse doesn’t flinch. “Alright, then.” She lets her gaze track over the land in front of her, pointedly ignoring the other woman’s pointed expression. “I feel…” She pauses, searching for the word. How does she feel?

In this language, the best word to describe it is probably-

“Nostalgic?”

Ho’olheyak’s gaze flickers back to Muelsyse, who shrugs. “If you want to speak for me, then I fail to see the point in asking me questions in the first place.”

“I’m just speaking from personal experience.” Muelsyse turns her head, no longer to the overarching sky but the deep, lush forests of Sargon beneath it. “Going to places that feel like home, but you never lived there… it left a bit of a melancholy taste in my mouth.”

“Huh.” Ho’olheyak ruffles her feathers. “Sorry for you or whatever. I can’t say I’ve ever been aware of such a sensation, we don’t have taste buds anyhow.”

“Wait, really?!” Muelsyse blinks.

“Ugh, no.” Ho’olheyak rolls her eyes. Despite herself, she’s more amused than annoyed. “You’d really believe that sort of nonsense? Maybe people should be losing faith in Rhine Lab faster.”

“Well, I don’t very well know much about you.” Muelsyse tilts her head. “Or what you are. I can’t say Sargon was an area of focus in my studies- Jara was better about that sort of thing than I.”

“Hmph.” Ho’olheyak pulls her jacket over her shoulders, turns around. “One might’ve thought that upon being notified that you’d be participating in an operation with me, you’d take the time to learn a little more.”

“I’m trying,” Muelsyse chirps, and Ho’olheyak has to suppress a gag because Muelsyse sounds as if she actually enjoys it.

-

Step one of the mission is to come in contact with those already stationed in the area, to touch base and find proper direction.

Actually getting there isn’t hard. Muelsyse takes another turn at the wheel first thing in the morning and they’re deep into Acahualla by noon, Ho’olheyak dozing all the way. She cracks an eye open when they’ve stopped, Muelsyse’s clone slamming the door behind her as she hops out.

She doesn’t bother to get out herself, and Muelsyse isn’t long anyhow. “Get what you were after?” Ho’olheyak speaks through a yawn, rubbing her eyes with an overdramaticness that she savors.

“What we were after,” Muelsyse corrects. “This is your operation, too, even if you seem to take every opportunity to act like it isn’t.”

“Hm.” Ho’olheyak picks an ear. “If you say so.”

“Aaanyway, the important thing that I got is this,” Muelsyse says, throwing a scrap of worn paper onto the dashboard. Ho’olheyak picks it up- it’s a permit. “So we’re set, baby!”

Ho’olheyak raises an eyebrow. Muelsyse says, not helpfully, “For the mines? Do you not remember that being an essential part of the Doctor’s briefing?”

“...eh.” Ho’olheyak was more concerned with other parts of the operation.

“...” Muelsyse laughs lightly despite herself, turning the key into the ignition. “Wowie. You’re really somethin’ else, you know that?”

-

They give up their signature coverings eventually, given the heat. The air conditioning was trying its very best, but even it could only do so much for the oppressive humidity.

Muelsyse is first, shedding her lab coat to reveal sweat-covered skin and bare shoulders beneath. That’s the important part; it is then and only then that Ho’olheyak lets her own jacket fall to the side. The petty part of her that cares about things like competition wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Phew!” Muelsyse does what she really shouldn’t and acknowledges Ho’olheyak’s actions, sending a shiver down her spine. “Some weather, am I right? Never thought I’d be saying that I miss the climate in Trimounts, but maaan.” She shakes her head. “It’s the little things, right?”

It’s as if she knew what was bad for the both of them. There’s no reason for them to make small talk, least of all when they’d freshly shed like this.

“If you can hardly handle this, it’s just another point in my favor that you’re far from fit for this mission.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Muelsyse waves her hand. “I’m suited for this, and you know it. Get over yourself.”

The heat must have taken away Ho’olheyak’s ability to argue, because she huffs and leaves it at that.

-

The car sits with half its weight inside a seemingly bottomless mud pit, surrounded by a choir of Muelsyse’s clones. She’s directing them like a conductor, too, pointing them in every which way and raising her staff once in a while for a gathered group push.

“It’s useless, you know,” Ho’olheyak flicks a bit of mud off of her shoulder. “Eugh. There are better things to be spending our energy on.”

Muelsyse turns around, her face in a cute and deep set pout. “You could be helping right now instead of lecturing me uselessly, but you don’t see me critiquing you, do you?”

“Hm. But you just did.”

Muelsyse looks at her dryly before rolling her eyes dismissively. “Maybe so,” she sighs, returning to directing her clones.

Which are growing weaker, Ho’olheyak notes mentally. The sweat pouring down Muelsyse’s brow is certainly doing her no favors on the ‘being filled to the brim with water’ department, and the clones are certainly suffering for it. They shrink slowly before Ho’olheyak’s eyes.

It’s unusual, she notes. She’s seen Muelsyse upset before - usually at Ho’olheyak herself - but never for long. The elf seemed to be a creature that skipped between joy and anger rapidly, a tumultuous thing that served no favors in any pursuit she might’ve had for being ‘genuine’. But her mask slipping so consistently, and so far…?

The heat didn’t seem to be serving Muelsyse well.

“You know, I’ve killed better people than you for so much as getting my tail dusty,” she sighs, leaning against the back of the truck. Muelsyse and her clones both startle, pausing as Ho’olheyak begins to scoop out some of the guck surrounding the tire with the flat end of her tail. She laughs lightly. “Come, now. You’d not be so hypocritical as to leave this task to me alone, would you?”

“It might do you some good,” Muelsyse chirps back, and the clones begin to pull again.

-

Of course they get nowhere with it, though. What do you expect? Ho’olheyak’s dying in a few years and Muelsyse has her clones carry out all of her busywork for a reason, neither of them have been graced with the muscles so often found in the physiques of other operators at Rhodes.

“We’ve got the supplies, so we can last!” says Muslsyse in her report on the situation. A blurry Kal’tsit nods on her screen.

“Then go ahead. We’ll send a recon team to get the truck, but they won’t be there for at least a week’s time.”

It’s not the worst in the world, at least. They’d been less than a half-day’s drive out from the mine, which meant that they just needed to get off their asses and walk the rest of the way. Tiresome, certainly, but far from impossible or life threatening.

Ho’olheyak considers throwing a fit when Muelsyse’s clones grab her luggage - she doesn’t want their disgusting inhumanity all over her clothes - but figures that the price to pay for that would be carrying it herself, and decides to leave it be. Some gracious thing, she is.

“Wow! This is great, isn’t it?” Muelsyse says, eyes practically sparkling. “It was such a waste just skating on by through the forest in a massive hunk of metal. Actually getting to sit down, enjoy the life around us… this is what we’re meant to be doing!”

“Maybe what you’re meant to be doing, elf,” Ho’olheyak sighs, hefting her jacket across her shoulders. Even if the thick cloth makes the heat near unbearable, she’d rather risk a heat stroke than a sunburn. “Some of us are keen on enjoying modern comforts.”

“I do enjoy modern comforts!” Muelsyse insists. “I’m not one of those lame old people who thinks that modern comforts aren’t worth it! It would be just a touch weird of a Rhine Lab head to think so, don’t you agree?”

“Of course,” says Ho’olheyak. She looks up towards the sky, half-obscured by plantlife. There is a while to go.

-

Day three into their walking escapade and Ho’olheyak’s had enough of camping by fires. At least, when someone else is there.

She’s slept in worse for longer, in the corners of parking garages and underneath bloodied planks. It was a habit that she’d grown used to in some other lifetime, and one she relied on often. What it rarely accounted for, however, was a constant nagging presence.

She doesn’t know if she’s been completely, 24/7 around one singular person since she was a child. Maybe ever, she thinks half-blearily as another microism of Muelsyse’s manages to piss her off. 

“So you and Kristen were besties, huh?”

Muelsyse’s been picking some local flora. Ho’olheyak wishes so terribly that Muelsyse wasn’t as smart as she was, and that Ho’olheyak might’ve then been able to recommend some toxic plant or other for her to sniff. Little pains. “That is far from the term I’d use.”

“Compatriots!” Muelsyse supplies. “Partners in crime! Ah, no, I shouldn’t call you that,” she cups her chin, “I think I’ll find myself getting jealous!”

Ho’olheyak glances at her, then away. “We worked together, yes,” she agrees. “She had information I wanted, and she wanted services I could provide. Wasn’t that in that nice little report Rhodes whipped up?”

“Erhm, yeah, buuut I wanted to hear it from your mouth.”

Ugh. “Unbelievable,” Ho’olheyak quickens her pace. The sky beats down on her shoulders; she should’ve brought sunscreen. She drags a gloved hand over her face to wipe away the sweat.

“C’mooon. You’re not one to rob a grieving friend of memories, are you?” Muelsyse catches up without problem, batting her big long lashes at Ho’olheyak. As if that’d make a difference. “Operation reports are soooo drydick and bland. Besides, it’s not like you’ve got much else to do besides talk to me.”

Ho’olheyak has much else to do, frankly. So-called quiet time was never quiet when every other day a new non-memory was dredged up, sparked by some unremarkable common day occurrence. She’d much rather sort out those sorts of headaches than a walking and talking one, anyhow.

Instead she says, “My encounters with Kristen were what you’d expect, I’d say. Our relationship was transactional, and so our conversations were formal and to the point. She was an efficient woman.”

“Is!” Muelsyse raises a pointed finger, and Ho’olheyak has to resist rolling her eyes. “We don’t know her current status, but at the very least, she placed herself into cryostasis, on life support. The chances of it failing at the moment are quite unlikely,” she nods to herself. “Though I suppose it is a bit of a Schrodinger's cat situation…”

“But of course,” Ho’olheyak snorts sarcastically. “Ah well. I quite nearly respected Kristen, but it’s somewhat hard to do that with how things fell out.”

“Oh?”

“She had her whole life in front of her and died for her useless little ‘starting point’. Please,” Ho’olheyak shrugs, hand splayed to the side, “if she wanted to die for something actually meaningful, she should’ve tried being less of a-”

The words are hardly halfway out of her mouth when Muelsyse darts up to her, eyes close and smile thin. 

The Muelsyse that holds a water-made knife to her neck is very much real, flesh and blood or whatever it was that elves were made of. Ho’olheyak’s grin widens excitedly.

“Isn’t it against Rhodes Island’s pretty little code to attack fellow operators?”

“There are exceptions,” Muelsyse replies. “And I doubt that you’d beholden yourself to it even if there weren’t.”

“Mm.” Ho’olheyak’s head rolls to the side, pressing deeper in on the knife. Something warm trickles down her neck; it’s broken skin. “But you would, wouldn’t you? Our dear Doctor’s little elf,” she practically coos.

Muelsyse doesn’t bite. “I’d be doing them a favor.”

“Would you?” Ho’olheyak lets her grin sag into a pout. “I have trouble believing they’d be anything but woefully disappointed.”

The moment extends for an excruciating minute or three. Then, with a thoroughly exasperated huff, Muelsyse lets the blade fall apart underneath her hand. Her breath steadies, and Ho’olheyak notes with no small satisfaction that it takes a solid handful of seconds before Muelsyse is able to steady the shake in her arm.

“Whaaatever.” She shrugs, turning on her heel and tone almost light. “I guess you’re right. It’s none of my business, but what is my business is this mission! And it should be yours, too, but it’s understandable that you only care about what’s in it for you.” She glances back, expression flipped. The strain is deliciously palpable. “So after you, then?”

Ho’olheyak rubs the spot where the blade has pressed in on her neck and smiles. 

-

The entrance to the cavern is guarded by a half-asleep sentry. When Muelsyse pulls up the permit they’d gotten earlier, he nods slowly and says “Oh yeah, that thing,” and waves them on in.

“That was entirely unnecessary,” Ho’olheyak points out, equal parts annoyed at the waste of time and smug at being proven right. “We could’ve snuck in without issue. Why, we could have strolled through the front gates with enough confidence in our step and been fine.”

Muelsyse chucks the permit at Ho’olheyak, who dodges neatly. “Aw, be quiet. It was a nice detour.”

There are a variety of foremen staked about, apparently with nothing but time on their hands as they wait for the problem to be cleared. Muelsyse goes to talk to them while Ho’olheyak can’t be bothered, instead electing to observe the comings and goings of the camp. It is as disgusting and boring as she had expected.

And dangerous, she notes with a raised brow at boxes of exposed orundum, certainly not stored to code. No wonder they’re having troubles that that charity case of a company was tripping over itself to fix.

“The cave-in is about a day’s walk,” Muelsyse says when she returns. Her gaze, too, jitters across the camp before coming back to rest at Ho’olheyak. “We can rest here for the night, but tomorrow it’s a matter of getting back up and at ‘em.”

“…right.” 

She doesn’t know what she expects. Probably for Muelsyse to wrap up for the night with her, to lay out their usual sleeping gear under something better than a plastic tarp. What ends up happening, however, is Muelsyse waving and saying, “Okay, see you in a bit, then!” and marching off to play cards with others in the camp.

Ho’olheyak considers herself well equipped to talk up a strong game should she need to. When it comes to the people who actually half-matter, she can size them up and figure out the best way to get what she wants in record time. And if words should fail, she has the fighting prowess to get it even faster.

Small talk with nobodies aggravate her for this reason. She has only so much time to sit around pussyfooting, and people like Muelsyse who have nothing but time can certainly afford such luxuries.

In a situation like this, however, where she finds herself with nothing to do and the contents of her desires an excruciatingly short distance away, the ease in which Muelsyse finds herself evening entertainment leaves the taste of bile in the back of her throat.

She goes to sleep that night to the patter of rolled die and peals of accusatory laughter.

-

The mine is comforting in a sense, all shadows and wet rocks. For all her bemoaning the cleanliness of things, slinking around in dark alleys and playing between street lights was far more her cup of tea than the near oppressive life of the jungle.

Muelsyse disagrees. “Blegh! I stepped in a puddle… uuuuu.” She shakes her foot rapidly, trying to dry it. “Ickyyy…”

“Aren’t you made of water?” Ho’olheyak rolls her eyes. “Why would stepping in a puddle upset you?”

“Actually! That’s a common misconception,” Muelsyse nods to herself, shaking a finger. “Elves are not made of water, and in fact, very few have such an influence on it as I do. We have unique relationships to flora and nature in general, particularly compared to your average person, and for me that manifested in… well, you know!” She sticks out her tongue.

Ho’olheyak looks away. “I feel like that clarified little to the point of my statement, but whatever.”

“Stepping in a puddle full of dust and muck and mold would feel slimy on anyone’s skin, right?” Muelsyse says. “It’s the same for me. We’re not that different, you and I!”

Ho’olheyak snorts. “You shouldn’t say something so serious with such a flippant attitude.”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” Muelsyse pops into Ho’olheyak’s vision, hands crossed behind her as she skips backwards. “Do you not wanna be associated with me? But I’m sooo cute! Oh, is it one of those, ‘if people see me next to her, they’ll realize I’m ugly’, situations? A valid concern,” she nods to herself.

“No,” Ho’olheyak fights down the annoyance that comes from a painfully obvious jab, “It’s because we could not be more different.”

“Is that sooo…” Muelsyse muses. “Elves and K’uk’ulkan’s are both long life, near-extinct species though. That’s at least one similarity! Struggles in ancestral heritage and all that.”

Ho’olheyak snorts. “You’d do well to never compare elves to the K’uk’ulkan again. And it takes little effort to think of a few important reasons that separate us. Namely,” she tilts her head, “that I’ve actually found success in the matter.”

“...” Muelsyse glances to the side. “And I have, too. I can hazard a guess that neither of us were satisfied by the results of things.”

“Then you ‘hazard’ incorrectly.” Ho’olheyak attempts to quicken her stride, only for Muelsyse to sidestep in front of her. Annoyed, she lets her grin widen. “Look. I know that you’re ripely a fool, but you’d do well to keep yourself from meddling too far into matters that don’t concern you. Your ancestors left none of this ‘shadow’ you speak of- why, they hardly left anything at all. While mine,” she gestures at herself, her head, “are closer than ever. You’re graced with ignorance, because I doubt you are capable of handling much else.” She snorts. “Count that as privilege. You’re certainly taking advantage of it.”

Muelsyse remains silent. Then, “You think I’d call this relationship ‘privilege’?”

“If you haven’t yet, I’d recommend starting. You’re floundering in benefits and keep yourself two steps ahead of everything else; why, you’re so comfortable in your everyday longevity that I doubt the concept of dying yourself even occurs to you.” Ho’olheyak rolls her eyes. “I would’ve thought that the precious time I took in stuffing you inside of that suit might’ve awoken some sort of sense of self-preservation, but you seem to be as flippant about it as ever.”

Muelsyse doesn’t so much as frown as she does let her face fall blank. Ho’olheyak passes by her as she says, “Is that how it seems to you?”

“An elf running headfirst into an originium mine doesn’t exactly seem like you’re well aware of your mortality,” Ho’olheyak points out. “If you were more careful about your lifespan, I’d expect something different.”

Muelsyse laughs nervously. “Aha, yeah… to be absolutely and compleeetely honest with you, I’m really, insanely terrified right now. Whoops!”

Ho’olheyak pauses, glances behind her. “...and you still went on this mission?”

“It was a request directly from the Doctor. And besides,” Muelsyse flashes Ho’olheyak a grin, “why would I ever wanna miss out on more time with you?”

Ho’olheyak flicks her tail. “I’ll pretend that I didn’t hear that.”

“Ehh? Meanie.” Muelsyse pouts. “Mm, whatever.” She skips a few steps ahead, regaining her position as ‘in front of Ho’olheyak’. “Thanks for that! I think it gave me a better idea of the sort of person you are.”

Ho’olheyak raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“If that’s the impression you got from me,” Muelsyse hums, “then it means either you’re far less perceptive than I thought you were, or I’ve gotten better at lying.”

-

It’s different, Ho’olheyak notes. Before she’d come to Rhodes Island, it was Muelsyse who felt far more comfortable in her distaste towards Ho’olheyak rather than the other way around.

Perhaps that’s her way of revenge, she muses. Figured out that all the spit in the world did little to dissuade Ho’olheyak, that the friction only served as further motivator. But passive sweetness, well.

“Are your teeth naturally pointed? Or do you sharpen them individually?”

Unfortunately, Ho’olheyak is genuinely taken aback by the question. “Pardon?”

“I knew someone in college who had their teeth carved to be all pointed.” Muelsyse opens her mouth wide and makes a sawing motion. “So I thought, maybe you did the same?”

“No. This is a trait of the K’uk’lukan.”

“Ahh. Okay, noted!”

A pause. Ho’olheyak touches her face. “Do I really strike you as the sort of person to do something like that?”

“Maybe.” Muelsyse shrugs. “You pride yourself in being all ‘mysterious’ and stuff, right? Or even if you aren’t that sort of person now, maybe in your youth you decided to carve them on a whim! To better tear out the necks of your enemies with.”

“Ha.” Ho’olheyak lets out a sharp bark of laughter. “No. I never had such foolish impulses.”

“I did!” Muelsyse chirps. “I got a tramp stamp when I was younger.”

“...no you didn’t.”

“Nooo I didn’t.” Muelsyse sighs forlornly. “I really, really wanted to, but it turns out that tattoo parlors are a really easy place to catch oripathy. So, y’know. I guess ‘that’s life’ or something, right?”

“Life?” Ho’olheyak raises her hands to the side. “That’s where I find my questions for you start rather than end, elf.”

“Mm?” Muelsyse tilts her head. “In what sense?”

She sighs. “I’m not here to spell out simple matters for you. Aren’t you supposedly one of Trimounts’ brightest minds?”

“So I’ve been told.” Muelsyse sniffs. “You’re just young and bitter.”

“Doesn’t the phrase go, ‘old and bitter’?”

“But I’m the old one here!” Muelsyse gestures at herself, somehow proud of the fact. “And I’d say I’m sweet and charming. So the problem must be you!”

“Mm.” Ho’olheyak pauses, propping her hand up with her chin. “Funny. A great deal of Rhodes operators seemed insistent on similar opinions when I joined. Something about unconventional methods, but I digress.” Her gaze shifts. “So how did you end up joining?”

“Me?!” Muelsyse, to no small smugness of Ho’olheyak, seems taken aback by the question. “Join where?”

“Rhodes Island.” Ho’olheyak extends her wings. “Where else?” She’s clearly avoiding the question at least somewhat, which has raised Ho’olheyak’s level of curiosity from ‘half-bored’ to ‘mildly intrigued’. 

“I haven’t joined, per se. The technical term is ‘long-term partnership agreement’.” Muelsyse says. “I’m still very much the Director of Rhine Lab’s Ecological Section.”

“Then how’d you end up in a ‘long-term partnership agreement’,” Ho’olheyak asks. “The impression I got was that Columbia hardly had the extra manpower to spare, what with how Kristen left things behind.”

“I… suppose that isn’t incorrect.” Muelsyse taps her chin. “Rhine Lab does find itself in a position where we’ve got to be on our toes. But Saria’s already basically a full-time operator after she got handed custody of Iffy, so it wasn’t much of a hop, skip and a jump to get me looped in as well.” She shrugs. “Silence had most things covered, knew that she was set even before they found me. She’s just got that sort of presence around her, don’t you think?” She laughs. “They’ve got me asking ‘where’d the time go’, and all that.”

“Found you?” Ho’olheyak ruffles her fathers.

“Ah.” Muelsyse’s eyes track to the side. “The Doctor found me when I… well.” She laughs guiltily for a reason that Ho’olheyak can’t place but draws suspicion on regardless. “After everything had fallen out with Kristen, I was able to speak with them. They, uhm…” She runs her fingers over her other hand’s knuckles. “You could say that they helped me ‘realize my life’, or something. Which, is, like, really embarrassing!” She laughs, scratching the back of her head. “Everything for Kristen and Saria and what, that’s what pulls me out of the muck? You know, there are many sort of people who-”

Muelsyse’s voice fades out as the gears turn slowly in Ho’olheyak’s head. 

(She recalls insignificant bubbles that she’d seen among the debris that made up Kristen’s aftermath, gentle things that lifted out of the ground in effervescent waves. It had reminded her more of oil residue on asphalt than anything else, too unnatural to be water but too thin to be anything substantial. She’d taken idle note of it and immediately forgotten, turned on her heel to continue her search for something- anything- that Kristen had left behind.)

“You tried to kill yourself.”

She makes no effort in hiding her disgust, acid seething from her words. Muelsyse raises her gaze to meet Ho’olheyak’s and says nothing. 

If Ho’olheyak didn’t feel her wings already involuntarily fluffing up in anger, she’d almost respect it. Not many could stare down a K’uk’ulkan in their full anger and not stray.

“You tried to kill yourself,” repeats Ho’olheyak in a dangerously low voice. “You, a creature with life gifted to you tenfold, and you were ready to throw it all away. You,” and she must stop her voice from rising, “who hasn’t even scratched the surface of those who came before you, despite all the time that you have been here to do so, and yet you found yourself ready to give up.”

Muelsyse’s expression stays. “Do you resent me for it?”

Her lack of self-defense takes Ho’olheyak aback, and she’s met with the sense that she might’ve been caught in some sort of trap. She doesn’t move.

“You do, don’t you?” Muelsyse’s voice is filled with so much wonder that Ho’olheyak feels nauseous. “The fact that I’ve got so much time that I don’t know what to do with it all, and that you have barely enough… yeah, uhm.” She scratches her chin. “That makes- woah!”

It’s Ho’olheyak’s turn to lunge at Muelsyse, now, the sweat under her palms as thick and sticky as those revolting clones. She keeps her gaze sharp and ever on Muelsyse’s throat, but the elf lifts herself up beyond Ho’olheyak’s reach effortlessly, her magic serving as a pillar that reforms faster than Ho’olheyak can claw away at. She quiets the hum in her head with a frustrated thrash of her tail.

“I guess… nope, I don’t blame you for it.” Muelsyse shakes her head. Ho’olheyak could tear her apart for her holier-than-thou attitude. “I can’t begin to wrap my head around the circumstances you’re in, or your position. Here you are, scrambling for whatever time you have left, and I- oopsie!”

Ho’olheyak’s sprung up with her Arts, forcing herself higher into the air to take another swipe at Muelsyse. She lets out a small yelp, knocked off balance as she waves slightly in the air. She regains it quickly, however, the pillar repositioning a few feet over. In another circumstance, Ho’olheyak would have expected her to laugh. Now, thankfully, she doesn’t- Ho’olheyak does not know if she could bear it.

“What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry, I guess?” Muelsyse scratches her chin. “For all your faults, this one is one I think you might be justified in, given-”

Ho’olheyak springs forward and this time, she succeeds.

She tears Muelsyse through the air, water pillar finally shattering out of existence as she slams her against the cavern walls. Momentum and Ho’olheyak’s Arts suspend them for a moment, but they are dragged down as gravity takes hold. Ho’olheyak wraps around Muelsyse tightly, and the elf’s face twists as her back scrapes against the rock behind her.

As they land, Ho’olheyak twists, throwing Muelsyse onto the floor. The two of them catch their breath.

Muelsyse’s neck trembles under Ho’olheyak’s grip. It is bare and small and warm. Ho’olheyak has snapped iron bars across her knee when she was younger- even now, with her life draining through her fingers like sand, the elf’s death would be no challenge.

“Are you going to do it?”

And the question is simple, with neither prompt nor accusation behind it. Just a genuine inquiry from a thing that has more longevity that Ho’olheyak could ever dream of.

Her breath slows and her vision clears. She waits a handful of heartbeats, then releases Muelsyse with a huff. “Clean yourself up,” she says curtly. “You look like a mess.”

Muelsyse sits up, To no small satisfaction of Ho’olheyak’s, she’s trembling slightly. “Aww, and whose fault is that?” she whines lightly.

Ho’olheyak turns, making sure that her tail whips hard enough against Muelsyse’s legs that it stings.

-

The cave-in itself is unremarkable in appearance, a pile of rocks belayed by a series of ropes and broken-in wooden posts. Muelsyse shines her flashlight on it from a distance, her gas mask now fully equipped; though the originium is not to be found until further past the cave-in, the upset that it has caused the area has stirred up dust of various origins.

Ho’olheyak kicks the first puntable rock that she sees. “Hey!” Muelsyse calls out, her voice distorted by her mask. The rock tumbles down the path in front of them. “This isn’t the best place to be playing ball, okay?”

“Right, right,” Ho’olheyak flicks her tail as her eyes scan the space above them- the real reason that either of them have come here, that Rhodes Island gave enough of a shit about this place to send two of their most specialized operators.

There.

Ho’olheyak surmounts the rock pile with little issue, the palm of her hand nicking on some piece of rubble or other. She pays neither it nor Muelsyse’s annoyed stomps any mind as she hefts herself over to the opening in the ceiling, dust chipped and falling away.

In some regards, she’s a little bit disgusted with herself. Letting old habits die hard and actually getting excited at the thought of seeing something like this again, when she’s long been granted every answer she could realistically get from some god-thing. There is no use hoping when there is nothing to hope for.

Despite this, she heaves herself across an outcropping of rock and into a smaller, hollowed out area. A pocket in the wall that had been described as unusual by the miners, noteworthy by the Rhodes Island operator reviewing the case. Ho’olheyak’s almost offended by the fact that they knew enough about the K’uk’ulkan to bother asking her about it.

It is small, a shattered box of some storage unit or other that the miners had not been equipped to excavate. Ho’olheyak’s gaze follows the light that shines upon it; up, up, and up again, through a hole that’s a good few dozen feet above, and then some. A container that had probably fallen in long ago, then. An exception to this place rather than a comfortable resident.

She crouches down, tail swishing through the floor’s soot as Muelsyse finally manages to crawl up into the space besides her. “You could’ve waited,” she coughs through her mask. “We’re partners now, okay? And this place doesn’t seem partiiiiicularly safe, so-”

“Be quiet,” Ho’olheyak says shortly. “I’m trying to read.”

Mercifully, Muelsyse falls silent. Ho’olheyak returns to her task, fingers deftly sorting through the rubble.

There are few pieces that haven’t had their letters rubbed off with time, fewer still that have enough writing on them to actually form a word. She sucks grit from her teeth as she clears through it all.

The vast majority of it is useless. It takes a solid several minutes before she hits the jackpot: a near-perfectly preserved tablet, dented only in the top corner. She scrubs away at a particularly large lump of dust with the one clean part of her jacket as she skims through.

“Huh,” says Muelsyse, peering over her shoulder. “It doesn’t seem like much.”

Ho’olheyak lets her hand brush over the tablet, a half-forlorn gesture that she allows herself. “No, it is not much,” she says curtly. “Simply clarification on an old folktale.”

“Oh?”

She turns with a shrug. “There is a legend that the very first K’uk’ulkan was a boy born as a snake,” she says. “The important part of the story is that for a variety of reasons, he caused earth tremors every year in the summer months.” She motions at the tablet once more. “This is nothing more than a record of one such particularly bad season, marking the severity of such quakes. It was a common sacred practice, and I’ve read dozens of them.”

Muelsyse nods slowly. “And to you, that means…?”

“It’s useless.” Ho’olheyak straightens up. “As much of everything pertaining to the K’uk’ulkan is useless, it seems. Ah, well.” She raises her arms, gives one last big stretch. “I suppose it is what it is.”

She slides back down the way she’d come, shouldering past Muelsyse. She turns to watch her go. “S-so… that’s it?”

“What’s it?” Ho’olheyak looks up, craning her neck. The elf holds her chin, glancing to the side.

“Given your demeanor on other matters, I thought you might’ve been a bit more, uhm…” Muelsyse searches for the words. “Upset about this. Do you not consider this a waste of time?”

Ho’olheyak shrugs, lowering herself. “I’m certainly not pleased. But this is not unexpected. I encounter dead ends far more than anything substantial. Really,” she sighs, frowning as a rock she had attempted to place her weight onto falls away, “I’d have been more surprised if it hadn’t been something akin to this useless.”

Through her mask, Muelsyse bites her lip.

“You can’t say you haven’t encountered similar situations in your own pursuits, correct?” Ho’olheyak hums. “Really. Two weeks of a useless trip is hardly the worst of these I’ve had. Now, come,” she motions, “weren’t we hired to do something else?”

-

The job, as described by Kal’tsit, is simple. “Set up safety precautions, originium monitors, and make sure everyone there gets a legal mining permit” she had said, gesturing vaguely. “You both know the drill.”

And despite her short time at the company, Ho’olheyak did. Rhodes Island seemed almost as obsessed with data and organization as she was, which was a compliment she did not dole out lightly. She had rolled her eyes at the amount of tags and digitized chip readers that had been handed out in neat little boxes, scoffing until she’d realized that every single one of them had to be placed with particularity.

Muelsyse’s clones can’t even help with it, because an oversaturation of moisture apparently can interfere with the accuracy of some readings. Instead, Ho’olheyak is forced to dirty her tights, measuring three inches off the cave floor before sticking another chip onto the wall.

“It’s kind of like decorating,” Muelsyse says, weirdly enamored by the situation. Apparently she’s one of those freaks who enjoys doing meticulous tasks over and over again, so long as it marks progress. “Like we’re some newly wed couple, breaking in our living room to prepare for some guests!”

“Is the dust getting to your brain?” Ho’olheyak hisses. “I was under the impression that insanity was only the result of particularly late-stage oripathy, but it seems you’ve caught it and skipped a good several steps.”

“Nah! I’m as healthy as can be,” Muelsyse pats herself on the chest, knocking a good handful of tags out of her breast pocket and causing them to go showering beneath her. “This mask’ll protect me from anything short of an originium filled dust storm. I just need to watch out for any cuts and scrapes, and then I’m golden-”

Silly. Everyone knows saying things like that only results in some sort of terrible jinx.

The sound of faint and far off crumplings reach Ho’olheyak’s ears as she freezes, hand poised to place another chip. “...did you hear that?” she says, voice low as her eyes scan the darkness.

Muelsyse has stopped as well, head tilted and pointed ears quirked. The sound of rocks humming against one another grows louder: a sure sign that something has been pushed in a way that it should not have been.

All at once, the chips’ sensors begin going off, a wild chorus of painfully unpleasant dings. The rocks are dyed red from the small led strips that blink in and out of existence. It does not serve Ho’olheyak any reprieve from the migraines that thrum in her temple, less-than-gentle reminders of where she’s been brushed closest by originium fueled Arts.

When Ho’olheyak tilts her head up, she can see the telltale signs of originium dust leaking through the top of the pile.

What this calls for is procedure. “I believe finding the exit is-” Ho’olheyak turns to find that Muelsyse has already begun surfing her way out of the area, a clone summoned to help lift her beyond the worst of it. “...right, then.”

For once, Ho’olheyak does not blame Muelsyse for fleeing from such a terribly impending doom.

She takes after her, feathers spread and hood up. She has not been graced the title of ‘Infected’ yet, and frankly, she is all too keen to avoid that badge on her wall before she passes on. The K’uk’ulkan do not find themselves with the same sensitivities that elves do, not to her knowledge, but she is not one to tempt fate.

The hissing of the dust cloud grows louder. Ho’olheyak’s step quickens, and she pulls ahead of Muelsyse. “Come on,” she grits.

Muelsyse says back, “I’m tryi- hrrk!”

Ho’olheyak only realizes that Muelsyse isn’t keeping pace with her when she whips her tail and finds nothing but stone. Scowling, she turns around.

Muelsyse has fallen, left leg caught between some rocks or something. She tugs on it with wild abandon, clones falling to the wayside as she focuses on getting herself loose. She finds little success, muscles tensing and contracting. Even from this distance, Ho’olheyak can smell the fearful sweat that hangs over her.

She is by Muelsyse’s side quickly- half-consciously, she thinks that it’d sound suspicious even by her standards if Muelsyse mysteriously vanished under unknown circumstances on a mission with her. “You’re stuck.”

“Y-yeah,” says Muelsyse. Huh, she’s really stressed. “No shit, Sherlock.”

Ho’olheyak ruffles her feathers. The sound of rocks grinding together gets louder. “That’s not the nicest thing to say to your will-be savior.”

“Aw,” Muelsyse gets out through clenched teeth, “you’re rethinking that whole ‘killing me’ idea? How,” a wince, “sweet.”

“I need you to drive,” says Ho’olheyak, hooking her hands underneath Muelsyse’s shoulders. “I don’t have a license.”

“I don’t think that- wait, really?”

“No, I obviously do,” Ho’olheyak bites. “Foolish. Hold onto me, okay?” Muelsyse nods nervously. Her hands reach out and dig knots into Ho’olheyak’s hood. “Alright, then. One, two, and–”

Muelsyse does not come loose with a ‘pop’ as much as she does a sickening scrape, the sound of tear and wear in a way that cannot be pleasant for anyone involved. It certainly isn’t for Ho’olheyak, whose feathers fluff up in displeasure as she helps Muelsyse catch her balance. 

The elf’s head hangs low, spit and sweat intermingling as she reorients herself. Her hair tangles itself in messy clumps. Despite herself, Ho’olheyak asks, “Are you alright?”

Muelsyse turns towards Ho’olheyak, eyes wide and face pale. “Ah, y-yeah,” she breathes through her teeth, “uhm. I think I’ve scratched my ankle a bit. O-oops.”

Ho’olheyak grits her teeth, leans closer. A glance at Muelsyse’s ankle reveals a deep gash, seeping water and blood both onto the cavern’s floor.

The rumbling grows louder. How wonderful, Ho’olheyak keeps herself from rolling her eyes. Instead, without a word, she scoops Muelsyse up from under her arms. “You’ll need to take care of holding on yourself,” she says, already propelling herself forward with her Arts. “The rest is far above my paygrade.”

“W-wow,” Muelsyse’s chattering now, her teeth forming a shaky grin. “Carrying me bridal style? I’m getting all flustered.”

Her ankle is staining Ho’olheyak’s uniform red. After this, she’s going to forward her the stain removal bill. “Oh do shut up. I’m trying to concentrate, here.”

By some small mercy, Muelsyse’s head rolls back on her shoulders, and she does.

-

The ride back is bumpy. Muelsyse surely does not have a good time of it, what with every other pothole - and there were a lot of them - sending her leg rocketing skyhigh before bouncing right back onto a barely-padded dashboard. She isn’t making any strong attempts to hide her winces, at the very least.

“If the car crashes, it’s on you,” Ho’olheyak notes as she pulls them out of parking. While they’d been in the mines a repair crew had come and extracted the truck out of the mud pit, courtesy of Rhodes Island. They’d even gotten them a new tire. How sweet.

“On me?” Muelsyse’s bleary between attempts to sleep and oripathy preventents coursing through her veins. Somehow, she feels even more unmanageable in this state. “I dunno if that’s fair…”

“Sure it is,” Ho’olheyak gestures, one glove on the steering wheel. “If you hadn’t gotten yourself injured, you’d be the one driving. It’d be a straight cause-and-effect line, if it came down to it.”

“Oh. Hm… okay, I guess.”

Muelsyse falls silent for a blissful minute. Ho’olheyak is deluded into thinking she can take the opportunity to muse in her own thoughts before Muelsyse speaks up again. “So why’d you bother coming?”

“You’re asking that now?” Ho’olheyak shakes her head. “That seems somewhat slow on the follow-up. But likely the same reason as you, I suppose. It was an assignment as a Rhodes Island operator.

“If you’d really refused, then it prob’ly wouldn’t have been an issue.” Muelsyse’s head rolls back on her neck. She grits her teeth through one particularly awful bump in the road before letting out a sigh. “You came on over ‘cause you wanted info about the K’uk’lukan, right? That’s the carrot Kal’tsit dangled at you, anyways. But you seem…”

Demotivated? Unenthused? Ho’olheyak fills the silence with idle expressions. Like you’ve given up? She shrugs. “You’re hypocritical if you truly believe that how one seems and their actions always correlate one to one,” she points out.

“Guess so…” Muelsyse wraps the blankets around her frame a little tighter. “Wacky.”

She is not incorrect, however. Ho’olheyak squints through the darkness in front of them, broken only by the truck’s searing headlights. She had gone, despite knowing that there was next to nothing waiting for her- even in a best case scenario, what would that entail? Perhaps more of the same of what the god-thing had said to her? An actually new folktale waiting to be heard? A fractured worldview is a fractured worldview, and even if there had been some sort of miraculous document in there that had served to somehow roll back all of her most recent discoveries, all that would do for her was serve as a new sort of apathy and another frantic rush to figure out something before she kicked it.

There was every reason for her to pass on the operation. Rhodes Island likely wouldn’t fire her simply for refusing to go this one time. Hell, Ho’olheyak wasn’t even quite certain as to why they’d been so insistent upon having her- her background aside, there were better operators for this mission and more suitable operations for her skillset and time. Historians and elves were hardly the best options for originium-soaked mineshafts.

And yet she hadn’t, and she couldn’t quite figure out why. How annoying.

“Hey, Ho’ol.”

A nickname . She feels the hair on the back of her neck stand on end at the familiarity of the gesture. “I’d prefer if you refrained from calling me that.”

“Okayyy,” Muelsyse yawns. “I jus’ wanted to say that. I think when you’re asleep, the way you purse your lips is kinda cute.”

What.

Ho’olheyak nearly slams on the brakes right then and there. Instead she chokes out, “Ex cuse me?”

“When you’re asleep, the way you-”

“I heard you the first time,” Ho’olheyak hisses. “My question is when the hell during this operation did I give you the chance to see me asleep.”

“Mm,” Muelsyse murmurs dreamily. “No, not this time… you don’t sleep much on missions, I guess.” She yawns. “In the intel processing room, when I’m careful… I can catch a glimpse of your sleeping face.”

Ho’olheyak doesn’t know when, but her shoulders have raised at some point. She forces them back down, but not without challenge. “I did not realize that I should be taking you as a pervert as well.”

“M’not a perv,” Muelsyse says half-indignantly, stifling another yawn. “Just curious about you.”

They lapse into a silence that remains with them until the next morning. When dawn breaks, they will have reached an inn that Muelsyse can stay at while she waits for appropriate Rhodes Island personnel to arrive, and Ho’olheyak can begin her journey home alone, without her. It is an opportunity that the both of them will find some comfort in, in one way or another.

And then, in a week, they will see each other crossing in Rhodes Island’s halls. Muelsyse will be freshly healed and pointedly uninfected, nothing to indicate her injury save for a tightly wrapped bandage around her ankle. Ho’olheyak will be the same as ever, and let her tail drag against the ground in a way that she knows Muelsyse hates.

They will take a pause. Muelsyse will wave at her. Ho’olheyak will let her usual precariously wide grin stretch across her face and nod.

But now, she tightens her grip on the wheel. Muelsyse falls into a fitful sleep, and the sky stretches long and wide over the both of them.