A Late Night Talk & A Mid Day Stop

Clack!

A long wooden sword crashes against the flat of Krvavy’s equally wooden axe, bouncing off it without even slightly setting the oversized thing off course.

Thmp...!

“Hhhhhhh...!” The bulky knight wheezes as that large weapon thumps into his armoured belly, driving the air from his lungs.

“Hah! See Vasyl?” Another knight laughs out from the sideline. “Your extra padding is not enough to keep the wind from being knocked out of you!”

“Shut it! Haah! I barely felt a thing!”

Clack...!

“Still think you are being fair for not using that shield of yours?”

Clack!

The bulky knight’s training sword is unceremoniously torn from his grip, twirling through the cool night air with a faint whistling sound. It lands tip first in the ground, digging ever so slightly into the grass before slowly tilting over and falling down.

Clang...!

1.11 Damage dealt to [Vasyl]

“Hhhnn...!” A comparatively small but entirely solid hammerhead crashes into Vasyl’s shoulder with enough **** to push him aside, nearly knocking the knight off his feet. “I... yield...!” He reluctantly gasps.

“You gave it a good go.” Piotr steps forward and roughly pats his fellow on the back. “Quite foolish to go against a long axe with just a sword though.”

“Yeah,” Krvavy breathes out, rolling her shoulders. “Still, it was a nice change of pace from all the polearms.”

“You are one to talk! That axe is taller than each and every one of us!”

The Drakling dismissively waves in the direction of whatever knight just made that comment. She didn’t entirely recognize the voice, so she probably hasn’t sparred with him just yet.

“Damn...!” Some other knight softly curses. “Looks like your chaperone is here...”

“Huh?” Krvavy blinks and turns to look back towards the ring of carriages, having to squint a little to see past the light of the lanterns that surround this late night fight club.

In the distance, surrounded by darkness, stands Vera. The maid’s arms are crossed and her gaze pierces through the crowd of knights to glare directly at the Drakling, who very much stands out amongst them.

“Guess it is curfew time for you!” An armoured gauntlet roughly clasps onto Krvavy’s shoulder. “Now then, don’t keep the lil’ missus waiting!” The jovial voice laughs out again, gently shoving her forwards.

“What?” A different knight not so innocently asks, grinning from ear to ear as he sees a grimace slowly fill Krvavy’s face. “Not a fan of that particular fair maiden?”

“Eh... Not really.” The barbarian honestly replies, watching as the albino maid’s pale pink eyes narrow even further. Just how good is Vera’s hearing...? “Not the biggest fan of having to wonder if I’ll wake up with a knife stuck between my ribs.”

“Don’t you worry about that. She is more the type to slit your throat. Far more efficient and effective, that is.”

“Hahaha!” The cheery and chipper knight laughs out, making Krvavy feel a little guilty about not remembering his name. She is sure that he introduced himself at some point... “Yes, the good maid can be a bit cold! Do not take it personally: she is like that with all but our Lady!”

Krvavy softly shakes her head and slowly breathes out. “Well... Guess I’ll be off. You lot have fun without me.” A joking smile plays at her lips as glances over the crowd of about a dozen or so men. “And don’t stay up too late. You’re the ones with an actual job in the morning. I just have to sit around and play board games all day.”

“No need to brag.” Piotr warmly responds, earning a laugh from some of the others. “Good night.”

“Night.” Krvavy waves and heads off, resting her wooden axe over a shoulder.

“““Good Night!””” “Good Night.”

“A bit slow there Vasyl. Sure you are not tired, old man?”

“Shut up, you whelp...”

The moons above provide very little light, with the larger being nothing more than a dark circle while the smaller still has at least a sliver of silver left. But, despite the relative darkness, Vera stands out in the shadows. Her snowy skin, pure white hair, and pristine apron almost make her shine like a beacon, contrasting beautifully against her mostly black uniform.

This isn’t the first time that Krvavy has had such a thought, and it definitely won’t be the last, but... If that girl was a bit more bratty and way less bitchy, then the Drakling would almost certainly have fallen in love with her already. Vera is honestly a lot like Thea, though both brats would definitely feel insulted by that comparison...

“Follow.” The albino maid coldly orders, turning on her heel before the barbarian can really get close.

“Is it that time already?”

Vera visibly twitches, shooting Krvavy a hasty and brief but still undeniably hateful glare. “The Countess wishes to speak with you before retiring for the night.” She curtly states, displeasure clear in her voice.

“Alright.” Krvavy simply sighs and follows after the maid. The fact that she is even being fetched kind of answers her question.

It doesn’t take long until Rina comes into view.

“Oh, there you are.” The Countess looks up from a book, her beautiful face dancing with the light of a nearby campfire. “I hope that I did not interrupt your fun.” She breezily states, painted lips curling into a subtle and alluring smile as she looks Krvavy up and down. Her gaze lingers briefly on the barbarian’s bare abs, that patch of pale skin glistening with a faint sheen of sweat.

“Not at all. I had just finished a fi-ght.” The Drakling glances at the maid by her side as the tingling sensation of a cleaning spell washes over her. Just how petty can this girl be...? “Do you need something?”

“No.” Rina daintily shakes her head, causing the pearl earrings dangling from her pointed ears to jingle faintly. Her amethyst eyes glimmer as she gazes up at the towering Drakling, slipping a silken ribbon between the pages of her book and gently closing it. “Yesterday and now today... You are quite quickly making friends with more and more of my knights. First the greenest, but soon enough my elites will flock around you as well~. Need I worry about you stealing them away~?”

Vera scowls as she hears that teasing tone enter her Lady’s voice. Her pale pink eyes glare through the lenses of her glasses as she wordlessly takes the book off of Rina’s hands.

“Ha, no.” Krvavy lightly laughs, casually waving off that playful comment. “I mean... I only really know a few of their names, and that’s all. I don’t exactly know any of them beyond our little fights.”

“Come now, Krvavy~,” the Countess casually leans to the side, shifting slightly in her comfortable seat as she elegantly rests her chin on a dainty hand. “This is only the second day in which you have been sparring with my men, yes? You will have many more chances to familiarize yourself with them before our journey comes to an end. If that is what you wish, of course.” Her expression shifts from warm and friendly into an almost seductive look, gazing up at her tall Draconic bodyguard with twinkling amethyst eyes. “Perhaps I may pop over to watch one of your fights tomorrow~? It would be quite entertaining to see you in action, dear~.”

The albino maid by her side visible bristles as that affectionate word is used to describe someone other than herself. She clenches one of her gloved hands into a fist, clutching Rina’s book tightly to her chest as she glares unblinkingly at the Drakling.

“If... you want to, sure.” Krvavy tries to casually respond, unable to keep her face from heating up. “Just don’t expect anything too exciting. We were... mostly just hitting each other with sticks.”

“So humble~.” The half-Elf’s melodic voice gently caresses Krvavy’s senses. “Even without your magic, I am sure that it is not so simple~. It is much like a dance, yes~? A clash of will and skill, where both sides look for an opening or make their own~. Not unlike the games that we have played together, yes~?”

A deep red blush fills both the barbarian’s and the albino maid’s cheeks as Rina dares to be so blatant and provocative. All while out here in the open, no less.

Rina slowly rises to her feet. “Regardless, I must thank you for encouraging my men to train~. The drills they run can be quite... structured and orderly. Useful for parades, not so much for actual combat.” The faintest hint of a sigh underlines her words. “Perhaps, before the end of our journey, even the more experienced of my knights will spar with you? That is surely something which I would wish to witness, more so than any other fight~.”

Krvavy shudders slightly as a delicate finger, its manicured nail painted black like onyx, trails down her bare abs. “Y-yeah, I, uh...”

“My, you can be quite cute at times~.” The Countess smiles and takes a step back. “Forgive me, I simply could not resist~. Ahem,” she softly clears her throat, straightening up and looking incredibly dignified yet still quite seductive. “Last night was for Vera alone, but now I am yours once more~. I take it that you are ready, yes~? Good~. Now please, give me a few minutes to prepare myself~.”

With that, Rina rather abruptly turns and heads into the carriage, her hips swinging side to side in a hypnotic rhythm. With much less grace, and absolutely no seductive intent, her blushing maid hastily scrambles after her. The openness of this whole conversation clearly left Vera a bit too flustered, because she doesn’t even give Krvavy one last glare like she usually would.

The barbarian takes a long, deep breath. After a few seconds of holding it, she very slowly exhales.

There are a few other people milling about, mostly aides and support staff. And none of them, not even the knights, seem to be paying Krvavy much attention. Much to her relief.

The chair that Rina was sitting in moments ago creaks slightly as the Drakling sits down in it. Her tail, and the thick tassets that cover her hips, makes it much less comfortable than it otherwise should be.

Krvavy’s armoured fingers lazily drum on the matte black metal covering her leg.

She... doesn’t really have the patience to just sit here and wait. Not right now. Not after Rina so cruelly riled her up. She needs something to focus on...

The ring nestled firmly on her lower right horn pulses.

⟨Yes, my Ushumgal?⟩

⟨I didn’t wake you up, did I?⟩

⟨No.⟩ Inanna’s voice fills the barbarian’s head, clear and steady despite the distance between them. ⟨I was just getting ready for bed.⟩

⟨So was I, kind of.⟩ Krvavy responds, smiling faintly.

⟨Enjoying your time with the Countess?⟩ A knowing tone underlines the Dwarf’s otherwise neutral words.

⟨Yeah.⟩ Krvavy sighs, tilting her head up and gazing at the stars. ⟨I still miss you and all the others though.⟩

⟨Of course.⟩ Were Inanna here with Krvavy, then she would surely have a faint smile on her face right now. ⟨Beryl is doing quite well, if you were curious.⟩

⟨I know. I ‘talked’ to her earlier. Has she seen the beryl Geode-Tree yet?⟩

⟨No. She can’t move that far from her own tree just yet. And I haven’t told her about it either: I’m waiting until it is fully grown, so that it is a better surprise.⟩ Inanna pauses for a moment. ⟨Admittedly, I am unsure of when any of the Geode-Trees will be ready. I don’t know how large they will become, but at the moment they are little more than saplings. Possibly only a fifth or a quarter of the way to being fully grown? And then we must wait even longer before they produce geodes for us to harvest.⟩

⟨Well,⟩ Krvavy shrugs, and then immediately frowns a little as she suddenly feels rather self-conscious. It probably looks like she is talking to herself right now, even if all of this is in her head... ⟨They were kind of a long-term investment. Even more than the Ore Seeds.⟩

⟨Indeed. Now...⟩ The impression of Inanna slowly inhaling and exhaling is transmitted through their Far-Speaking jewellery. She is getting better at sending more than just words through the connection. ⟨I do not want to be the reason for you to keep the Countess waiting. So goodnight, my Ushumgal, my love. Enjoy yourself, and sleep well.⟩

⟨I love you. Goodnight.⟩

A warm smile plays at the Drakling’s lips as she rises to her feet. Her heartbeat quickens. She may not be able to cuddle with her girls like she would love to, but... Rina is waiting for her. And there is no way that Krvavy is going to complain about being able to spend the night with that absolutely gorgeous noblewoman~.

Krvavy idly bites the inside of her cheek. Her emerald eyes slowly trail across the table, looking over the various models scattered about. Hesitantly, she pushes a wedge shaped clump of models forwards, angling them slightly in the process.

Directly ahead of that wedge stands a line of simplistic bow-wielding models. A line that is, for the most part, facing away. Judging by the angles, Krvavy won’t be able to charge into the rear, but the flank is wide open, so –

The Countess calmly rotates a blob of bristly spears, stretching out a measuring tape to ensure that she makes the most of its movement.

“I am not a fan of cavalry.” The barbarian plainly states, frowning a little as her planned charge is ruined. In retaliation, she pushes her own line of archers onto a green felt patch, giving them cover and a perfect shot at Rina’s bowmen.

A disarming smile fills the Countess’ face as she idly watches Krvavy collect nearly two dozen dice, one for each model archer. “Using or going against them?” Her beautifully vibrant eyes pointedly glance over the various units of simplistic horsemen that she has scattered across her side of the table.

“Both.” The Drakling sighs, slowly picking out the dice that rolled too low. Looks like she got fifteen hits off. Now, how many of those are kills...?

“They are complicated and annoying in equal measure, yes?” Rina rolls for her units defence, losing only five of her bow-wielding models. Lucky... “A poor charge squanders their use. As does an unlucky roll, but that at least is intentional: not everything goes to plan.”

The albino maid, a silent observer to all of this, shoots Krvavy a glare for seemingly no reason as she turns to the next page of the book held in her gloved hands.

“In all honesty,” the Countess continues on, sliding one of her own wedges off to the side and setting it up for some flanking charge in a turn or two. “This is one of the aspects in which this game fails to reflect reality the most. There are no rules for disengaging from combat, so cavalry cannot pull back and charge again, not unless they rout their foe upon the charge or suffer enough losses to be routed in turn. Nor are there rules for charging through a line. Each unit, no matter how small, is treated as an immovable block.”

“I mean, its fine as a game, I guess.” Krvavy shrugs, sliding a block of infantry forwards to hopefully keep her archers from getting charged later. “Maybe its also good to help learn some basic tactics, but...”

“Exactly. That is how I see it as well.” Rina smiles warmly and affectionately as she meets the Drakling’s gaze. “Even if it were a perfect recreation of a battle, this game would still be a poor teacher. There is nothing beyond each match. No consequence for losing half your units or more. No grand strategy. No logistics. It is –”

Knock knock knock knock knock!

The elegant noblewoman’s black painted lips twist down into a frown as she suddenly leans to the side, moving away from the door and towards the window opposite it, squishing against her maid in the process. Her delicate brow furrows as she parts the curtains and looks outside.

Knock knock, knock!

“Can you get that, Krvavy?” The faintest bit of tension underlines those words, turning what would otherwise have been a request into an order.

Krvavy simply nods, scooting to the side and rising to her feet. Relief washes over her, mingling with growing worry, as she takes just a second to straighten out her armour. Well, most of it. The hip plates are laying on the ground instead of being attached to her loincloth belt, as they are a bit cumbersome to wear while sitting. But still, missing just a piece of her armour is a big upgrade to what she was like an hour or so ago...

The fact that she hasn’t been caught with her cock out yet is, honestly, a miracle.

Knock kno–

“My Lady!” The mounted knight on the other side of the door immediately barks out, his raised fist quickly shifting into a salute. “Th-there is something on the road ahead!”

“What is it?” Rina calls out from behind the armoured barbarian.

“Some... some sort of animal! The horses refuse to go near it!” The knights voice wavers nervously, and his own horse seems to mirror that feeling as it shuffles in place. It looks... skittish and afraid.

A quick glance is all it takes for the Drakling to confirm that is indeed wearing the enchanted ring of ‘pacified presence’ on her lower left horn.

“Krvavy. Can you go and see what the trouble is?” The Countess’ tone is calm and steady, almost casual even. A convincing façade.

“Yeah.” Krvavy turns to see Vera standing there, holding her oversized axe out. She gives the unfriendly maid a thankful nod and takes her Soulbound weapon, before turning back and unceremoniously hopping out of the carriage.

The door shuts and locks behind her.

“Th-this way!” The knight unnecessarily shouts out. This whole convoy is travelling in one direction down a road. It is pretty easy to tell which way is forwards.

Krvavy’s half armoured fingers cling tightly onto the haft of her axe as she keeps pace with the trotting horse, nearly having to jog to do so. Most of the people she can see, the drivers and knights, seem rather confused by this unplanned stop. But that changes as she gets close to the front.

A feeling of unease fills the air.

The sound of whinnying horses and stomping hooves echoes around the convoy of carriages. The knights struggle to keep their horses still. The drivers struggle to keep theirs from breaking free from the reins.

Krvavy’s throat goes dry as she sees the animal up ahead.

It...

It is a deer...?

And not even a large one.

But...

Something is clearly wrong with it.

The things head is tilted to the side, hanging limply at the height of its chest. The grey and colourless fur that covers its emaciated body is matted and patchy, marred with open and festering wounds.

Wounds that are oozing an oily black liquid that seems devoid of all light.

The area beneath and around this... deer... is stained with darkness. Bubbles and vapour rise from that tainted ground.

Krvavy’s mind screams in warning, fear, and rage as she advances further. Each step is a struggle, a battle against conflicting and battling instincts.

This creature is dangerous. The darkness infecting it is a hazard to all that exists.

Being near it is a risk! If its taint infects Krvavy then she, and all of her girls, will be doomed to a fate worse than ****!

It must be purged! Destroyed! It cannot be allowed to remain in this world!

Krvavy’s blood freezes and burns simultaneously. She leans heavily on her axe, treating the faithful weapon as nothing more than a walking stick. Stabbing pain erupts behind her eyes as she stares at this half-dead deer, unable to look away.

Its limp head slowly swings towards her. Milky, dull eyes stare back, peering into her soul. The tainted beasts mangy chest swells and contracts as it struggles to breath. It shakily lifts a hoof up and steps –

-3.71 Health

Crimson flames erupt from deep within the Drakling’s core, surging through her throat and bursting from her mouth. Agony engulfs her very being as her sensitive fleshy insides are seared, scorched, and scalded simultaneously.

-2.86 Health

-5.73 Health

The tainted deer stands unblinking as blood-red fire engulfs its form. Wisps of darkness eat away at the light, dampening the inferno. The black ooze, the inky vapour, the affront to all that is...

-6.84 Health

It burns.

The darkness burns beneath the Dragon’s bloodflame. It cannot withstand the onslaught.

███.██ Damage dealt to [███████ ████]

Rancid smoke rises into the air, threatening to escape. In response, the crimson inferno pulses and beats like a heart, growing taller and brighter and engulfing all.

-10.23 Health

-9.63 Health

███.██ Damage dealt to [███████ ████]
███.██ Damage dealt to [███████ ████]
███.██ Damage dealt to [███████ ████]

-13.92 Health

█,███.██ Damage dealt to [███████ D██r]
█,███.██ Damage dealt to [███████ De█r]
█,███.██ Damage dealt to [███████ Deer]

[Northern Spotted Deer] has been slain!
+75 Experience

-8.96 Health

-7.34 Health

The plume of crimson flames rushing through Krvavy suddenly sputters out.

Agony fills the barbarian’s entire body. Her lungs burn. Her throat is raw and charred. Dried blood cakes her chin and painfully parched lips. Her legs buckle, muscles strained as her Soulbound weapon supports her weight.

Nothing remains where the... deer... once stood. No ash. No tainted darkness. All has been purged, leaving just a hellish scar of charred earth and molten slag. Puddles of burning blood and flames linger around that blistering wound, sizzling as they continue to melt away at the packed dirt of the road.

“Khhkk...” Krvavy struggles to breath. Each inhale brings pain. Each exhale releases a cloud of ash and smoke.

-0.47 Health
You have been inflicted with a Major Wound: Severe Internal Burns. Your Health Regeneration has been reduced by 75% and will not have an effect on the wounded area(s).

Krvavy’s core pangs as she tries to pull mana from its empty reserves. The synthetic Heartstone merged into her Soulbound weapon is equally drained.

Her dry eyes glance towards the large bearded axe. Sunlight glimmers on its sharp edge.

Her heavily armoured left hand grasps at the weapon’s sturdy haft, keeping her body steady as her right reaches up, bare palm open...

“Th-thank you...” A mounted knight – the same one as before? – shakily breathes out, voice tense but relieved. His posture is straight and rigid, almost completely unmoving, as his helmet points towards the molten scar.

Krvavy grits her teeth and nods. She can bear the pain a little longer.

Silence hangs in the air, the horses calm and still.

With a shallow breath, she turns and slowly heads back. It takes all of her will and all of her strength to stay upright, to not stumble and fall. To hide her weakness. The fact that not a single knight helps her walk must mean that she is doing a good job at masking her pain and exhaustion...

The door to one of the carriages swings inwards. A decorated staircase folds outwards from beneath it, thumping into the ground.

Pale pink eyes glare down at the Drakling, narrowed into slits.

A gloved hand grabs at Krvavy’s wrist, squeezing down with surprising strength, and she is all but pulled up the wooden steps.

Click.

Spectral hands manifest in front of the barbarian’s face, their delicate fingers grasping at her mask-like helmet and lifting it off her head. The metal cheek guards are warped and glowing with heat. The fur padding is visibly singed. But that damage is slowly being undone, metal bending itself back into place and fur regrowing. Faster now that it isn’t on her person.

“Drink.”

Krvavy winces as a cold glass bottle is pressed against her cracked and bloodied lips. But she does as ordered and painfully swallows down the slick and bitter liquid. Her body tingles as the taste of charred flesh and metallic blood overwhelms her senses.

+100 Health

The all consuming pain fades into little more than a dull throb.

Krvavy opens her mouth, but no words come out. Only a choked gurgle. Her throat... is stiff and clogged. Her aching lungs strain. No air can make it in or out. Her stomach turns.

Panic grips at her heart as she stumbles to the side, throwing open the sliding doors that block her path. Her armoured knees clang into the tiled floor of the cramped bathroom stall. The toilets lid is torn open just in time for it to catch the chunks of flesh and burnt blood spewing past her lips.

Translucent fingers softly trail across the barbarian’s scalp, some providing a reassuring massage while others simply hold her crimson hair back and out of the way.

Soon, Krvavy is left gasping for air above a bowl of black and bloody viscera, remnants of her charred throat. It takes a few flushes to drain it all away.

“What was out there?” Concern fills the Countess’ voice as she gently rubs a wet cloth over the Drakling’s face, scrubbing away the layers of caked and baked blood.

Krvavy is not sure how to respond. She doesn’t know what that was. And glancing back at the notifications doesn’t help. “A... a sick... deer...” She hoarsely breathes out, throat feeling raw and sensitive.

“I received a... more slightly detailed report... while you were dealing with it.” Rina sounds almost hesitant to admit that. “Was it undead?”

“Worse...” The Drakling shakes her head, brow furrowing deeply. Was it worse...? Yes. There is no doubt in her mind, in her soul, that whatever that thing truly was... it is far, far worse than anything undead could ever be. But why...?

Silence fills the air. Unasked questions hang above their heads, the answers unreachable. They both know that. A tacit understanding forms between them, leaving that topic unexplored.

“We... are no longer within the lands and territory of Raseyne. Anything beyond our carriages is beyond my authority..” Regret hangs from the Countess’ every word. “Let us pray that there are no more like it, and that you had dealt with the only one...” Rina slowly, tiredly, sighs. “Come now. Sit and relax.”

A dozen purple glowing hands grab at the barbarian, almost treating her body like a puppet as she is walked back to the couch.

“I am sorry. That potion... I did not expect it to be so... intense. Would you like something to drink? To wash away the taste?”

“Beryl’s nectar, please...” Krvavy grimaces as she utters those words. She may feel remarkably better now that she did just a few minutes ago, but... shedding layers of her burnt insides and vomiting it all out isn’t something she can just push aside and forget about.

A glass clinks down onto the table, next to the lines and blocks of models frozen mid battle, and the gourd is soon popped open. A soft and sweet scent slowly dances through the air as that glass is filled and handed over to the barbarian.

Krvavy takes a sip of that delicious honeyed liquid, swirling it around her mouth before hesitantly swallowing it. A gentle and reassuring tingle spreads across her inhuman tongue and down her raw and freshly healed throat. The taste of blood and charred flesh remains, tainting the wonderfully fulfilling flavour of her sweet berry’s nectar, but it fades away after a second and third swirled sip.

Vera slowly refills the Drakling’s glass.

“You– hhghk...” Krvavy coughs, frowning a little over how phlegmy her voice feels. Another sip seems to fix that, for the most part. “You can have some too, if you’d like...” Her emerald eyes drop down to the cup in her hand, staring at the translucent fluid. “It tastes better fresh...”

“Does your magic usually cause you so much harm?” Concern fills the Countess’ voice as she sits directly beside her bodyguard, placing a dainty hand on the uppermost part of Krvavy’s thigh, the small bit not covered by armour. Her fingers slowly and gently rub the barbarian’s toned leg, idly brushing over pale white skin and black scales.

“It can sting or hurt a little, but this... I went a bit overboard... That... thing... needed to burn...”

Rina’s delicate brow furrows as the Drakling continues to stare off into space. Her expression lightens a little as Vera hands her a glass of freshly poured nectar. “Oh...!” Her pink cheeks grow ever so slightly more vibrant. “This is quite good...! Surprisingly fruity, with a flavour that is difficult to place... What sort of plant did Beryl harvest this from?”

“Heh~...” Krvavy can’t help but laugh a little, shaking her head as a wry smile plays at her lips. “A very special one that she only just grew before I left. I’ll let her know that you like it~.”

“Please do.” The Countess softly nibbles on her bottom lip, looking incredibly adorable as she does so. “I wonder how well this would mix with hard ****...?”

The barbarian takes another sip of Beryl’s sweet and fruity nectar, basking in the gentle waves of tingling bliss that each mouthful sends through her body and mind. It is almost as if the Dryad is here herself, cuddling and sharing her warmth.

That feeling is nearly enough to wash away her worries. Nearly.