A Desperate, Regretful Request

“Nnhhh...” Thea groans, that silver-blonde brat barely able to stand on her own, hunched over and leaning quite heavily onto the bathroom counter as she is. “You need to learn how to hold back...”

“Come now,” Krvavy gently soothes her fiancée, running a brush through that noble girl’s slowly drying hair. Thea almost looks like a different person without her braids, long and loose locks reaching all the way down to the middle of her back... “No need to be so dramatic. I’ve been rougher with you before.”

“Not for that long though...” The bratty blonde grumbles back. “I can hardly feel my legs...”

“I’ll admit that I got a bit carried away, but can you blame me~?” A warm smile plays at the Drakling’s pale lips, only growing wider as she leans forward and bends down, nuzzling into the back of her pouty princess’ head, slightly damp hair be damned. “I was playing the part of a wild dragon who got to ravish and use the most beautiful princess to ever live~!”

A rather red and rosy hue creeps onto Thea’s cheeks, even as she rolls those soft-blue eyes of hers. “Excuses, excuses... Our acting was nowhere near good enough to get lost in.”

“Really? I thought we did great.” Krvavy honestly states, heart fluttering just a bit as she gazes into her fiancée’s imperfectly reflected face. If only they had actual mirrors in here, and not just polished copper sheets... Still, Inanna did an amazing job with what little resources they have.

“Your acting was atrocious.” The haughty noble girl plainly returns, lifting her chin and crossing her arms – beneath her bare breasts – as the barbarian that she has agreed to marry resumes brushing her hair. “If we had a script, you would have gone off of it multiple times. You shifted between loving and cruel far too flippantly.”

Krvavy softly shakes her head, emerald eyes gleaming bright as her smile shifts into a grin. “Hey, that’s hardly my fault. You are the one who wanted me to be a bit rougher than usual~!”

The blush filling that brat’s face burns brighter and brighter as she refuses to respond.

“What, have nothing to say to that~?” The Drakling playfully nudges her lusty little loveslave in the back. “Or are you just too embarrassed to admit that I gave you exactly what you asked for~?”

“Ugh...” The bratty girl slumps forward, a cascading curtain of silver-blonde hair hiding away her heavily flushed face. “Are we done here...?” An absolutely adorable whine underlines that question. “I just want to lie down...”

The barbarian furrows her brow, critically looking over the crucial and important work that she has done thus far. “Mmmm... Alright, I guess so.” Krvavy shrugs, nonchalantly putting her brush away. “Want me to carry you to bed?”

“Couch, please...” Thea sighs back, picking up a towel and wrapping it tight around her body, wearing it like a shoulderless dress. Having committed the crime of covering up her beauty, the exhausted brat steps away from the counter and... simply stands there, her head turned to the side as she refuses to meet her Draconic lover’s gaze.

Krvavy does exactly as her fiancée wants, scooping that blushing brat up into her strong arms, holding Thea like the bride-to-be that she is. “You look pretty cute with your hair down like this~.” That casual comment causes the noble girl’s face to flush even further, the rosy hue colouring her soft skin creeping down her neck and to her shoulders. “But...” The Drakling drags out that word, crossing from the bathroom door all the way into their living room. “I prefer your braids more~.”

Thea’s soft-blue eyes narrow into thin slits as she glares up at her Draconic fiancée, kissable lips pressing together into a pout. Her blush only burning brighter as she is so very gently lowered onto the padded moss cushion of their couch. But before that big barbarian can pull away... her hand suddenly jumps up, dainty fingers hooking onto one of Krvavy’s lower horns to pull that inhuman lover of hers in for a kiss. “I love you,” she almost mutters, bashfully glancing off to the side. “Now go away and leave me in peace...”

“I love you too.” Krvavy calmly and confidently states, some warmth finding its way onto her own face, pale and snowy skin gaining its own rosy hue. “Want me to move your book closer? So you don’t have to get up to grab it?”

“Ughh... No.” Thea dismissively waves her hand, before lazily resting that arm across her face. “I have had enough of that thing today...”

The tip of Krvavy’s tapered tongue trails across her freshly kissed lips. “Alright.” She slowly nods, reluctantly turning away from that wonderful girl. “See you later, my fiancée~.”

“Hmph...”

A slightly dopey smile fills the Drakling’s face, even as she makes the hard choice to head off from here, passing through the open door that marks the entrance to their living area proper. Already, she misses the warmth of that wonderful fiancée of hers, the solid stone steps leading down to the first floor of her home feeling so cold in comparison...

Krvavy tilts her head to the side, palm gliding down along the smooth and polished banister.

Actually... these steps are a little on the colder side... And, honestly, so is the floor in the rest of this home that she has made. That isn’t too much of a problem now, but when winter comes...? It might be wise to ‘fix’ that, for comforts sake. Carpets could help, but... heated floors would be better. Much more luxurious. She’ll have to speak with Inanna about that...

Open air soon surrounds Krvavy... and then some pleasant steam, that wispy mist caressing across her completely uncovered skin as she follows the winding path down from her high up home.

Even though she just showered, a part of Krvavy kind of wants to just laze about in one of these wonderfully warm pools... Suppose she is a bit tired after all that ‘acting’, even if Thea’s magic kept her energy up pretty well...

The Drakling’s idle thoughts trail off as she turns the last corner, close to exiting this cluster of bubbling hot spring ponds. Her brow raises just a bit.

Beryl is sitting up ahead, facing away and staring off into the darkness towards the faintly glowing lake in the center of this expansive cave. Thin trickling waterfalls flank her long legs as she rests on the edge of a fairly short ‘cliff’.

“Hey.” Krvavy warmly greets her tomboy of an Elf, lingering smile finally fading away as she doesn’t get an immediate response. Or any kind of response at all. Concern quickly creeps into her heart. “Is everything okay?”

The Wood Elf softly exhales. “{Can we talk, Krvavy?}”

The Drakling’s stomach turns as she hears her sweet berry’s rather strained tone. “{Yeah, of course.}” She replies, speaking the Wood Elf’s native language. “{What, uh, what’s bothering you...?}”

Beryl deftly jumps down from her seat. “{Not here. Let us go somewhere a bit more private first.}” Without even glancing towards Krvavy, she begins walking deeper into the cave, not along any path but instead following the river that runs past their home.

Krvavy finds herself lightly chewing at the inside of her cheek, hurrying on after her Elf. “{Did I –?}”

“{No, my dearest love.}” The tanned tomboy silences her Draconic lover with a long and weary sigh, her tone uncharacteristically blank and dull. “{You did not do anything. This is... me.}”

A slightly metallic taste fills Krvavy’s mouth, her increasingly tense jaw clenching a fair bit as she follows that Wood Elf further upstream, growing more anxious with each passing second. She can’t even appreciate the sight of Beryl walking a few steps ahead, emerald eyes instead peering into the darkness beyond a butt that would normally entrance her. Another cluster of hot springs stands in the distance, the steamy air surrounding the rocky hill they are set into just barely lit by the dim glow of those rejuvenating waters.

“{Here.}” Beryl walks past two ponds before stepping into a third. The bubbling water climbs her caramel coloured calves and toned thighs, lapping at her trim belly and then rising above her bare breasts as she sinks down into it, gesturing for Krvavy to do much the same.

The water here is noticeably hotter than the pools beside their home, but not uncomfortably so.

“Ah’m sorry fer worryin’ ya.” The lithe Elf settles in on the opposite side of this medium-sized pool, keeping her gaze turned down and away from the Drakling hesitantly sitting across from her. “Ah... Ah really am...”

“No, it’s... it’s okay.” Krvavy responds, the tip of her meaty tail idly flicking back and forth beneath the surface. She wants to hug and comfort her Elf, but can clearly tell that... that Beryl needs some space right now. “Is this about... whatever has been keeping you busy these past few days...?”

Beryl visibly winces, her expression twisted into a grimace. “Ah’d... like ta tell ya a bit about my last love.”

Krvavy catches the tip of her tongue between her teeth. Worry and concern swirl through her soul, strong enough for her to... let that Elf get away with dodging her question.

“She... ‘er name was Eirlys. And from wha’ Ah’ve told ya, ya probably think she was whisked away by slavers from right under my nose, aye...?” This troubled tomboy pauses for a good long second, slim fingers slowly raking through the bubbling, steamy water. “But tha’... Tha’ isn’t really true.” Those whispered words can hardly be heard over the thin, trickling rivers running all around them. “We were separated at the time. She... Ah pushed ‘er away, even though tha’ was the last thing Ah’d ever want ta do...”

The barbarian shuffles in place, wanting more and more to pull Beryl into her embrace...

“We still loved each other, even if we argued, but she... she thought tha’ we could use a bit o’ space. Because Ah... Ah...” Beryl’s strained and sorrowful voice wavers, crackling just a bit as she forces herself to keep talking. “Eirlys... She wanted what was best fer me. She didn’t want ta get in the way o’... o’...”

Krvavy’s heart twists as she watches a tear roll down her despondent Elf’s cheek. That pang grows more intense as she sees that the whites of Beryl’s eyes are already pinkish, not quite bloodshot. That tear isn’t the first. It won’t be the last. “You don’t hav –”

“No, Krvavy.” A tinge of determination enters Beryl’s harsh and hurting tone. “Ah do. Ah...” She shudders and pushes herself up, droplets of dimly lit water dripping down her lithe form as she shakily makes her way through the pond, to sit by Krvavy’s side. She slowly exhales, resting her head on the barbarian’s bosom. A strong arm tightly wraps itself around her shoulders.

The two remain there for nearly a minute, listening to the sound of countless little waterfalls and flowing streams. It is a bit too loud to be peaceful.

“Do ya remember wha’ Ah told ya about my people...?” Beryl hesitantly speaks up, not wanting to break the silence but given no other choice. She sounds... slightly strained once more. As if she was procrastinating and beating herself up because of it.

“Kind of...? It was... some time ago.” Krvavy gnaws on the inside of her cheek, feeling slightly frustrated. Both with herself, for not having a perfect memory, and at her meandering tomboy, for not getting to the point. But... that impatience eats at her heart. It makes her feel like an asshole. If her sweet berry needs to say this... “I remember you talking about how, uh, fantastical the forests are,” she slowly breathes out, letting Beryl move the conversation along at her own pace. “That there are entire regions ‘stuck’ in specific seasons or times of the day. You grew up in an area that was always spring. Is that...?”

“Ach, no, Ah... Don’t feel bad fer not rememberin’ fully.” The tanned Elf almost pleads, grasping onto the Drakling’s hand. “Ah think tha’ Ah only mentioned it once, so it’s not yer fault...” She pulls that hand up against her slim chest, hugging it tightly. As if afraid that it will pull away and leave her all alone.

Thick, billowing steam swirls through this corner of the cave, leaving all beyond this isolated cluster of hot springs as little more than a blurry haze.

“My ‘omeland is governed in two parts: the Earls and Margraves rule over the people, while the Dryads rule over nature.” The quick and irregular beat of Beryl’s heart doesn’t quite match her soft and steady voice, the way she is speaking almost enough to trick an ignorant observer, making them think that everything is alright. “My lost love ‘ad a career under a Margrave, and Ah under the Dryads. Our duties kept us apart at times, and tha’ only became more true as the years went on.”

The Drakling gives her sweet berry a gentle squeeze, unsure of what else she could possibly do to comfort that weary Wood Elf.

“When it came ta our careers... Ah... Ah ‘ad more o’ a future than Eirlys did.” Beryl shrinks slightly as she says that, hating herself for that truth. “But as Ah advanced, we’d ‘ave less and less time ta spend wit’ each other. So Ah didn’t want ta advance, ta get ‘promoted’. But Eirlys felt like she was ‘oldin’ me back. Tha’ is why she took a post in the borderlands, ta show tha’ we didn’t need ta be at each others’ side all the time. Tha’ is why she was out there, in a place where she could be kidnapped and enslaved... Where she w-was...”

“You can’t blame yourself for that.” Krvavy softly whispers, planting a tender kiss atop her tomboy’s head.

“No, Ah can.” Beryl takes a deep breath and harshly exhales. “Ah spent years ‘esitatin’. She gave me warnin’ after warnin’ after warnin’. But Ah never listened. Ah pushed off my... my ‘promotion’... fer well over a decade. Ah caused the strain in our relationship. Ah was the problem. If Ah wasn’t such a... such a coward, then...”

The Drakling pulls her shuddering Elf even closer, dragging Beryl into her lap. “Shh... It’s okay... You’re not –”

“Krvavy,” the Wood Elf’s voice wavers, sounding pained and hurt as she pushes back against her Draconic lover’s embrace. “Ah never told ya wha’ Ah was before exilin’ myself, did Ah...?”

“I...” Carnivorous teeth lightly nibble at a pale bottom lip. “I think that, back when we ‘fixed’ Khalia, that you said you were a, uh... a priestess in training?”

Beryl winces. “Not... not exactly. My fate wasn’t tha’ o’ a mere priestess. Ah was... Ah was in trainin’ ta be a Dryad. Ah was selected fer one o’, if not the greatest o’ honours tha’ my people can bear, and Ah all but rejected it. Few ‘ave ever turned tha’ down. And Ah... Ah pretty much did. Fer a woman. A woman who blamed ‘erself fer it. A woman who felt like she was ‘oldin’ me back...”

“This...” A shiver runs down Krvavy’s spine. Her throat feels... clogged. Her tongue swollen. She struggles to speak as her mind jumps to conclusion. “This isn’t really about Eirlys, is it...? Not... not entirely, at least...”

“Ah’m sorry fer... fer not bein’ straightforward...” The tanned tomboy’s shoulders slump and sag as she limply leans against her barbaric lover’s body. Her forehead presses into Krvavy’s collarbone as she sinks into the steaming water. “Ah... Ah just... Ya are eclipsin’ me, my dearest love.”

“I... I know you’re worried about that.” Krvavy gently trails a finger across her Elf’s cheek, cupping Beryl’s chin and coaxing the sorrowful tomboy’s head up. “I’ve told you this before, and I’ll tell it to you again. You don’t need to be powerful for me to love you. You won’t be a burden no matter how ‘weak’ you feel compared to me. You’ve done so much for us, for me and the others, already. You’re not useless. You’ll never be useless.”

Beryl’s blue-green eyes waver but remain downcast. “Ah don’t want it ta ‘appen again... Ah don’t want ta lose ya... Ah don’t want ya ta lose me... Ah –” The Wood Elf woman abruptly cuts herself off, teary gaze snapping up to meet the Drakling’s emerald eyes. “Are ya goin’ ta take Rina’s offer or not?” She asks – no... She demands an answer.

“What?” Krvavy blinks, feeling whiplash from that sudden question.

“Will ya take the job or not?” With trembling hands, Beryl grasps onto the curve of that Drakling’s upper horns, quivering with an odd and worrying intensity. Her voice is firm but unsteady. Stilted. Determined. At the edge of despair. “Answer me, Krvavy. Will ya be leavin’ in a week, and be gone fer a month?”

The seconds drag on and on, feeling far longer than they truly are. “I... Maybe...?”

A crazed twitch pulls at a corner of the tanned tomboy’s eye. Slowly, she drags herself up from the water, looming above her larger lover. “Yes. Or. No. Ah need ta know. Please...” Her pert breasts rapidly rise and fall with each shallow but quick breath she takes.

Krvavy audibly swallows. “I... Adeline seems alright and is okay with it, so... Y-yes...? Yes.”

Without warning, Beryl completely collapses. She splashes back down into the bubbling pool, going limp in her Draconic lover’s arms.

“What’s going on?!” A fair bit of panic fills Krvavy’s thoroughly concerned tone. Her strong hands grab onto the Elf. Beryl looks so... so tired and frail. “Please, just... just tell me...!”

“There’s not enough time... Ah don’t... can’t... Not now...! Ah’m sorry...! Ah’m sorryy...!” Tears freely stream down Beryl’s face, her whole body shuddering and seizing with each painful sob, head hanging low. “Please, Krvavy...! Order me ta... ta drop it...! Ta not speak about it...! Ta forget about it all...!”

That suggestion causes Krvavy to recoil. “No!” She shouts, pulling Beryl back so that they are face-to-face. “I’m not going to –!”

“Please! Please...! Ah... Ah can’t do this...! Ah thought...!” Beryl weakly grabs at the Drakling’s wrists, doing little more than steadying herself. “Please... The collar... Let it... Please...! Please... please...”

Krvavy’s throat goes dry. Her heart twists into a knot. She takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. “Beryl. I order you to...” A glimmer of melancholic hope enters the Elf’s watery eyes, even as the Drakling grimaces. “To tell me what the problem really is.”

Horror and despair and betrayal all twist Beryl’s beautiful face. “Ah’ve spent years – decades upon decades – o’ my life wastin’ my potential.” Each word is a struggle, pained and hesitant. But being forced against her will to talk also seems to bring her a modicum of relief, letting her say what she needed to but couldn’t on her own. “Ah was supposed ta become a Dryad. My talents lay in tha’ direction. If Ah want ta grow stronger, Ah ‘ave ta go through wit’ it. As Ah should ‘ave, decades upon decades upon decades ago. Ah’ve already prepared the ritual. It’s the only way fer me ta... ta... ta be more... Ta be wha’ Ah was supposed ta be... It is... the only way...”

Krvavy’s brow furrows and knits together, her expression filling worry. But not surprise. “And... what does becoming a dryad entail...?” A part of her doesn’t want to know, but the rest needs to hear the answer. If it was easy... if it was inconsequential... then Beryl would have gone through with it long, long ago. And even just speaking of it wouldn’t hurt her sweet berry so much...

“Ah’d become more powerful. Ah’d be able ta protect yer ‘ome, yer other girls. But Ah’d change.” Beryl quietly exhales, her voice withering into a weak and exhausted whisper. “Ah’d... Ah’d stop bein’ a woman o’ flesh and blood. Ah’d die and be reborn. Ah’d be bound ta my grove, ta this place, ta yer land. Ah’d see things differently. Ah’d... Ah might no longer be me.”

The Drakling rolls her jaw. “So it’d be like with Khalia, but...”

“More. More. Way more.” The caramel coloured Wood Elf rocks back and forth as best she can with Krvavy’s hands holding her firmly beneath the arms. Her blue-green eyes, usually so bright and lively, stare off into nothingness... dull and empty. “So much would change... Ah... Ah can’t make the decision... Ah couldn’t then, Ah can’t now... Please, make me drop it... Make me forget... Fer both our sakes... Let the work Ah’ve done just... just be fer another garden... Please...”

“Beryl.” Iron underlines Krvavy’s tone. Iron and regret. “Tell me what you really want. Do you want to be a Dryad? Do you want to put all that aside and stay as you are now? I love you, Beryl. I love you. I’ll love you no matter what you pick. But... you need to pick. You can’t keep torturing yourself like this. So, please, tell me what it is your really want.”

“Ah...!” The Elf quivers and seizes, colour seeping from her tanned skin as she struggles to even breathe. “Ah... Ah... Ah...! Ahg...! Akgh...!” A trickle of blood leaks from her left nostril, flowing over her parted lips.

Panic grips at the Drakling’s heart, making it difficult for her to do anything but watch as Beryl’s inner turmoil tears that tomboy apart, indecision warring against the collar’s ever lingering influence. “St...Stop!” Krvavy hastily shouts, choking on her own tongue. “Stop!”

Desperation pierces through the steamy mists... shifting into worried relief as that Wood Elf falls still, quietly coughing and gasping for air.

A shaking, black-scaled thumb wipes away that thin trail of blood. “What...?!”

“S-sorry...” That sad, pathetic whimper cuts Krvavy short. “Ah’m... sorry...” Beryl slumps into her barbaric lover’s chest, burying her face between those big pale-skinned breasts. “Ah can’t... Ah can’t...”

The Drakling tightly hugs that tomboyish Elf, holding her sweet berry as close and as securely as she can. “Beryl...” A slow sigh slips past Krvavy’s pale lips. “You... you have to stop beating yourself up over this...”

“Ah... Ah know...” The Wood Elf’s tears run down her Draconic lover’s chest, hotter than the water all around them. “Ah know... But Ah can’t... Ah...” Beryl trembles and shakes, choking on her own words, sobbing one last hopeless plea. “Just... just decide fer me... Please... Take this pain away... please... Ah can’t...”

Krvavy sets her jaw, pale lips pressing into a thin, strained line. The quick beat of her heart gradually slows down. Not calm, but...

A tense, uncomfortable silence surrounds Drakling and Elf, stretching on for more than a minute.

Eventually, a heavy breath hisses past Krvavy’s clenched teeth. Her emerald eyes stare across this steaming pond, focused intently on an unassuming and unimportant rock. “Beryl.” Her throat is dry and almost feels clogged... but still she forces herself to speak. She has to. No matter how much this hurts. “You’re going to go through with it. With that ritual.”

That Wood Elf violently pushes herself back, breaking free from the barbarian’s embrace and scrambling across the pond, escaping beyond arms reach. “What?! No! Why?! Please! N-no!”

“Quiet.” Krvavy coldly orders, turning her gaze towards Beryl. Anger sears through her soul, burning hotter and hotter with each beat of her heart. “You had your chance to decide, but you couldn’t! You’re making me pull the trigger! And I...! I don’t want an empty, obedient doll...! I love you Beryl...” The Drakling’s rage flickers and fades. The pain in that Elf’s eyes... Exhaustion washes over her in waves. “I hate that we only have a relationship because of that collar. I... I can’t rely on it to ‘fix’ this. I can’t just paint over your problems and pretend that everything is fine. You... you’ve left me with no choice, Beryl.”

The tanned tomboy trembles and shakes, despair written all across her tear-stained face. “But...!” She gasps, that single sound full of fear and sorrow. “But wha’ if Ah’m no longer me!? Wha’ if Ah no longer love ya?! Ah can’t lose ya too...! Please...! Please... Ah can’t...”

The Drakling sadly shakes her head. She can’t let this continue. She can’t let Beryl keep suffering like this... “Then... then so be it. As long as you aren’t in pain. That’s all that matters. We’ll rip this bandage off together.”

Misery and agony mingle together in Beryl’s bloodshot eyes. Her long and pointed ears erratically twitch. “When we first met...” She forces those words into the steamy air, speaking slowly and quietly. “Ya were horrified with the thought o’ tha’ collar ‘avin’ killed who Ah was before, o’ it ‘avin’ stripped away who Ah was and leavin’ me in ‘er place.” Regret and spite fills Beryl’s gaze as she seeks to share her pain. “And now you’re willin’ ta do just tha’ all over again.”

Krvavy glares at her manipulative Elf, hurt but unswayed. “If you don’t want this to happen, then say so.” The barbarian bitterly returns. “Don’t just protest and complain. Don’t guilt me into changing my mind because you couldn’t make up your own.” A slow sigh sees her tone grow softer. “Be honest. With me and yourself.”

Beryl immediately turns her gaze away. “Please, Krv–”

“You said the ritual is already prepared?” Krvavy cuts off her weakly whining and whimpering Wood Elf. “When can we go through with it? When would be the best time to do it?”

“When both moons are new, tha’ would be best.” Beryl sighs and gives in, slumping down and nearly going limp as she truly surrenders to this decision. A decision made for her, at her reluctant request. “But... tha’ is around the time ya’d be arrivin’ in wha’ever city Rina wants ta bring ya ta. It doesn’t... need ta be on tha’ exact date though. We’re close enough now fer it ta work just fine. We can... do it tomorrow. Tomorrow afternoon.”

Krvavy slowly nods her head. Much like her sweet berry, she too slips further down into the water, letting exhaustion weigh her down. “Where... where will your grove be? Down in the grotto?”

“No. Over there.” The Wood Elf gestures further into the cave, further into this cluster of hot springs. “It is a... a nice spot. Full o’ life magic from the waters. Peaceful, if a bit loud. Ah couldn’t... Ah couldn’t claim a spot in the very center o’ our home. Out ‘ere, out o’ the way, is... perfect.”

Krvavy nods again, unsure of what else she could do. “Is there anything I can help with? Any last minute... things... you need a hand with? I don’t want this to... to go wrong.”

“Not... not now. But tomorrow... Ah’ll need yer ‘elp tomorrow. Ya’ll be a part o’ it, my dearest love. This isn’t somethin’ Ah can do on my own.” Beryl slowly massages her forehead, ignoring the few tears that continue to trickle down her cheeks. “Just... be there. Ah’ll explain more when we’re ready. All Ah can ask is... is fer ya ta be topped up with mana. Ah’ll... need a lot o’ it...”

The barbarian slowly blinks, her vision clearing just a little. The back of her hand wipes across her face, smearing more than just the steamy moisture clinging to her skin. “Right...” Her knee bounces beneath the bubbling surface of this pond. Anxious and unable to stay still. “Beryl, I’m... I’m sorry.”

“So am Ah, my dearest love. Ah’m sorry about so many things. Least o’ all ‘ow ‘ard Ah’ve made this fer the both o’ us. If Ah...” The Elf clicks her tongue, and buries her face in her hands. “This should’a just been a calm conversation, but Ah couldn’t... just couldn’t be straightforward. Ah couldn’t make up my damned mind. Despite everythin’, guess Ah’m still the same girl Ah was all those years ago... Ha, ha... ha...”

The faintly glowing water swishes around as Krvavy pushes through it, moving to sit beside Beryl once more. Without a word, she wraps her arms around the Elf, around her sweet berry.

“As sick as it is ta say... Ah’m ‘appy ta... ta be bound by tha’ collar...” Beryl quietly mutters. “Ah wouldn’t ‘ave ya without it. Ah would ‘ave just... just pushed ya away without it keepin’ me in line...”

“Mmn.” The Drakling simply hums back, unable to bring herself to agree but also unable to fully disagree.