Cinders

BRIAR

Briar learned rather quickly that her magic was no good against the monster. If nothing else, her wind probably only served to aid the monster by spreading its sparks even wider throughout the withered field before it. 

Which was why she spent her time now tending to some of the scattered, isolated blazes that had popped up around the village outskirts. There was at least another acre of field on fire out by the monster that likely would still be unmarred had she not blasted the amalgam with a gust of wind. She certainly owed karma a lot of good deeds at the moment if she didn't want it to catch up with her. 

 She'd done her due diligence, she'd run back to Sommerang and alerted them that they had a big storm coming (although at that point, some of the other villagers had already noticed the second inferno anyway). Let the other mages risk their lives taking on that nasty-looking tusks. If she could help without sticking her neck out, she was absolutely going to take that route instead. 

---

LEVI

Levi should have been doing her job. She should have been back with Marius, helping him soothe his damn horse, while simultaneously convincing him to keep moving because, no, Cassius Abernathy would not be joining their little adventure party. The goldsmith had made it clear he wasn't interested in playing the hero, but that was fine. Marius had wanted him to come, and Levi had assumed he wouldn't so she was not going to be disappointed when his crusty ass didn't come to help.

Instead, though, she was clinging to one of the few remaining trees at the edge of the forest, watching a vaguely familiar form put out some of the smaller barn fires. The grassland was entirely ablaze, but the heat was nothing to Levi. Fire had never harmed her prior, and even with the flames at someone elses behest - she felt confident she could sway them from her form. So, the Pyroclast studied the woman she'd come to know as the 'Foxface Assassin' with open hostility, bare face pulling into something akin to a snarl. With every fire the woman put out, rage built in Levi. It wasn't long before heat rose dangerously about her, and the tree she was hanging on cracked in half.

CRAAACK!

The sound was a dead giveaway to her location and presence, but Levi wasn't hesitating. She had already launched herself from the tree, wings flared wide as she casually removed the cloth from the tip of her glaive. The weapon itself winked ominously, glittering red. Cassius had made this weapon specifically for Levi, and it was a wicked thing. Long, black pole adorned with thick, purple fur near the base of its terrible blade. Serrated, dangerous. Crimson sparks, generated by herself or the weapon nobody knew. The pole was warm and familiar in her hand, so Levi did one quick barrel roll and let that sucker fly.

The glaive rocketed forward, Levi seconds behind it. Whether or not the polearm hit its intended mark, Leviathan landed about ten feet away from Briar and instantly an wall of fire rose up around them. There would be no escaping until Levi had achieved revenge for Morgana.

"Looks like your luck ran out."

---

BRIAR

The resounding CRACK of shattering wood just about made Briar jump out of her skin, and she looked up in time to see a dark blur barreling straight towards her. Instinct took over she tried to jump out of the way, but she wasn’t quick enough to avoid the apparent attack completely. 

Something razor sharp sliced through her side, and as the offending weapon embedded itself into the dirt behind her with a dull thud, Briar realized it was a spear. She summoned a gust of wind towards her just in time to keep herself from toppling to the ground, and her hands flew to the deep laceration in her abdomen. Hot, sticky blood welled immediately between her fingers. “Shit,” she hissed.

A wall of heat blasted her, and the roaring of flames mingled with the snapping of leathery wings just a few feet away. One of Briar’s knees buckled, and she dropped into a kneel, looking up to meet the smoldering gaze of another mage. 

Her initial response was repulsion. A dark skull grinned down at her, and despite the fact that Briar was potentially bleeding out, all she could think was, Damn, this bitch is creepy. As she took in the rest of the woman, though, a heavy recognition settled over her. She knew those sleek, curving horns and those massive, bat-like wings. Had she really never seen the Pyroclast without her mask? 

And then the other mage spoke, and Briar gave a hoarse bark of laughter, though it was cut short by a sharp stab of pain jolting through her upper body. “My luck can’t run out if I never had any to begin with,” she spat. She held the other woman’s gaze in defiance, baring her teeth in a somewhat frenzied grin. “What the fuck was that for?” She lifted one hand to accentuate the river of blood oozing from her side, then doubled over in pain and began coughing. 

The earth was already soaked with her blood, and she stared down at it for a moment, almost in disbelief. She pressed her palms even harder into her side, but she had no idea if her attempts were doing much to staunch the blood flow. 

She took a few heavy breaths, slowing her breathing and by extension hopefully slowing her pulse. She’d lived through worse, she’d be damned if she let this take her ass out. Gauging her current situation, she looked around at the flames encircling them. “And what’s with all the theatrics?” she demanded. “Do you know how long I spent putting some of these fires out? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

---

LEVI

Leviathan was beyond pleased her initial attack landed, in fact, she might have preened a bit as she straightened up, if her opponent hadn't opened their fucking trap. The words that came pouring out of the assassin’s mouth were simply oil on the fire, further enraging the Incendiary.

Whatever high Levi was riding -- whatever warm feeling she'd achieved from that strike -- instantly faded. Instead, it was replaced with revulsion and no small amount of malice. Her crimson eyes flashed dangerously. "If you had no luck, you'd have been dead weeks ago," the Pyroclast snapped, extending one taloned hand in her direction. She gestured vaguely at the wound she'd created, much more vicious than the wound originally inflicted on Morgana, but Levi never pulled her punches. "Do you not recognize your own mark? I thought it was a… striking statement, personally."

Knowing full well she had the upper hand, Levi stepped closer to her glaive and instead of picking it up, she actually leaned on it, letting the blade sink further into the earth as the flames fanned out around them. "You think I'm theatrical?" There was a strange lilt to her voice, bordering on hysterical. "You stab an innocent woman, then make a valiant effort to save a farm from a giant flaming monster... Just what kind of demon are you? How many people have you fooled with this bullshit?"

The words trailed off a bit at the end, and Levi's expression shifted suddenly. Her rage didn't fade, it just suddenly seemed less. The air between them cooled, and every flame within a twenty-five-foot radius was snuffed out. Levi's gaze moved from Briar’s face, to the injury, and then back again. She looked terribly thoughtful, scarily thoughtful, like she was plotting something out. After a few more pass-overs, her gaze shifted outward. The gears turning in her head were almost corporeal, and her expression continued to close off until a few more pieces of the puzzle had dropped into place. Whatever else Briar was saying, or intended to say, would fall on deaf ears. "Hope someone realizes you're out here," with no lips, she couldn't smile necessarily but it could easily be detected in her voice. "Would be a shame if nobody knew... I might actually prefer you breathing."

Levi didn't really spare Briar another glance as she pulled her weapon from the earth. The movement dislodged the thin piece of fabric that she'd been keeping wrapped around the blade. It was a piece of Morgana's clothing, sheer and pale green: a memento from that night, still dyed red on one end. Levi turned and hurled it at Briar, though the fabric caught too much air and fluttered harmlessly towards the other woman's lap. At least, until it suddenly ignited.

Levi didn't really wait to see what happened, instead turning on her heel and walking away.

---

BRIAR

As Levi spoke, the pieces slowly fell into place. Realization dawned on Briar, and despite herself, the beginnings of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Ah, so that's what this is about," she mused, more to herself than to the Pyroclast. She did recall seeing Leviathan at that woman's side quite a bit the night of the masquerade. Apparently, she'd done a very good job hitting her mark and catching the Order's attention. Unfortunately, Levi was also apparently quite good at hitting her own marks. 

She looked down at the wound in her side, contemplating it for a moment as blood dripped between her fingers. At the mention of stabbing an innocent woman, however, her amber gaze snapped back to meet Levi's, and something of a deranged, choked laugh bubbled from her lips. "The Order has done worse to countless innocent people," she snarled, as menacingly as she could with this much blood rapidly leaving her body. Her vision had started growing fuzzy around the edges, but Briar was doing her best to ignore that. 

She wasn't really listening as Levi finished talking, and she didn't look at the tall mage as she retrieved her weapon and began to leave. From the corners of her eyes, she saw the slip of fabric move toward her, and she studied it for a moment as it landed in her lap. She recognized that brilliant shade of green and scoffed, but then it burst into flames, and Briar patted at it frantically to extinguish it. By the time she’d managed to avoid her premature cremation, Levi was long gone. Briar didn't even know what direction she'd went, and she didn't really care. All she cared about right now was dragging her sorry ass to some place a little more sheltered before she passed out, so she could stitch herself back together.

She couldn't go back to the village, even if it was probably the smart decision. That would attract too much attention, and there was a chance that was where Levi would be. That damn Order dog. 

Instead, she rose shakily to her feet and set off for the tree line, holding as much pressure as she could to the wound. The blood didn't seem to be slowing down, and she'd probably leave a nice trail all the way to whatever tree she eventually collapsed under. She half limped, half stumbled to the edge of the forest, and ultimately had to crawl the last ten feet. How humiliating. 

With the sun beginning to set, the tree cast a massive shadow over her, and for a moment Briar wanted to curl up among its roots and nap. Unfortunately, that would probably turn into a forever nap if she didn't get the bleeding to stop. Dragging herself into a sitting position, Briar propped herself up against the tree trunk and studied the wound again. Most of her clothes had been sufficiently blood-soaked, and she removed her outer layer of clothing to allow herself a better look.

The laceration wasn’t quite as deep as it felt, which was a good thing she supposed, but she didn’t feel any less queasy looking at it, and the bleeding didn’t seem to have intention of stopping soon. She placed her hands back on the wound and pressed hard, tilting her head back against the trunk of the tree behind her and gritting her teeth in pain.

Briar supposed she deserved this. It was pretty much exactly what she’d done to that woman at the masquerade, same side of the body and everything. She’d surely need to put out hundreds more fires before undoing that karma. 

She gave the wound another good few minutes of pressure, watching the sky as the setting sun began to dye it different shades of pink and gold. She wouldn’t have much light left, but she needed to be able to see if she was going to sew herself up; that really wasn’t something she wanted to do in the dark. She checked the wound again, but it was difficult to tell if the bleeding had slowed much. Surely, she wouldn’t bleed out in a minute or two if she stopped applying pressure though, right? 

If there was one thing the Cinderlights had taught her, it was how to quickly build a fire, and so she always carried flint. With a few good strikes against a throwing knife, she had sparks dancing in the cluster of dead leaves and dry grass she’d managed to gather from where she sat. Those sparks quickly burst into a nice little campfire with encouragement from some manmade wind. She leaned back against the tree and watched her handiwork for a moment, one hand still pressed against her side. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she thought about letting them drift shut, just for a moment, but that was a dangerous temptation to give into. No, she needed to get this wound stitched.

With her free hand, she first retrieved her waterskin from her belt, using some of the clean, fresh water to rinse the wound off. Then, she retrieved the tiny sewing kit she kept in one of her robe’s inner pockets. Typically, it came in handy for small clothing fixes, like if she snagged a sleeve on a thorn bush, but there’d been a few occasions she’d had to stitch her own skin back together, too. Unfortunately, she was very good at pissing people off, and this definitely wasn’t the first time she’d been stabbed, and probably wouldn’t be the last. Sewing herself back together was one thing that didn’t get better with practice, though. Her hand could’ve been trembling from the blood loss, or it could have been trembling from her nerves, but after finally getting the needle threaded, she made the first stitch.

---

EVELYN

Eve had seen Sommerang briefly, during her childhood. The village itself was nothing spectacular, but she'd always been remarkably at home amongst the rolling hills and the small, stone walls that surrounded the orchards. Even though everything was frozen, it still brought those warm, homey feelings to her chest. Urged by her body to take a moment to rest, Eve moved off the well-worn path and into the frozen fields that normally held a bounty of fruit. She camped at the base of a tall tree, just outside the village itself, overlooking a partially frozen little river and an even prettier windmill that was the shade of the setting sun, its blades dusted with frost. It stirred a strange nostalgia within her breast and urged her into a peacefulness she hadn't experienced in quite some time. It wasn't long before she was asleep.

But, as she'd come to expect, her peace could never last. It was the shouts that woke her, cries of 'fire!' and 'save the horses!' then 'the barn!' Eve rose clumsily to her feet, her body quite stiff from the cold and inactivity. There was no second-guessing herself as she ran into the fray, aiding where she was able. Over the course of the day, more and more mages showed up, but the fires were proving exceptionally difficult to put out. They'd extinguish one fire, only for four more to pop up somewhere else.

When the monster finally passed over the village, Eve was powerless to stop it. Her light was useless against its wicked inferno, only good for making her look spectacularly foolish for even attempting. So, Eve did what she knew was helpful and continued to put out fires. She aided injured villagers, helped clear farm animals into the grasslands and away from the blazes. It wasn't much, or so she thought, but until reinforcements came, her hands were tied. She couldn't harm the Pyre of the North any more than she could fly, and trying was a senseless waste of energy.

It was hours later, when the sky was awash with a blazing sunset, that the fires finally became contained. It had been a colossal group effort, with mages pouring in from all over and many villagers sticking around to help save their homes. Many of the mages she'd recognized, and plenty she did not know. There was one face in particular she'd been surprised to see during all the chaos, though the woman had since gone missing and Eve had not seen her since. Briar Cinderlight, the so-called Foxface Assassin, though Eve thought the name was a bit premature. The victim had lived, so there'd been no true assassination.

A singular voice broke Eve from her thoughts, "Fire!"

The Lightbinder was immediately at the woman's side, looking in the direction she was indicating with her finger. A group of men rose up behind them, buckets in hand as they prepared to rush off. However, Eve found this fire particularly strange: not only was it very far, but it wasn't growing - it appeared contained. "It's a campfire."

Of course, Eve had volunteered to be the one to investigate. Better her than one of the exhausted villagers; many of them had just lost their homes, they didn't need to concern themselves with someone simply camping outside the village. It was harmless... well, minus the fire. The walk to the outskirts of the village was an easy one, but the fire was still a ways out there. Eve had been walking for about five minutes before the campfire, and its owner, finally came into view. She halted, golden eyes widening in surprise as she took in the sight of the Foxface Assassin and the gaping wound in her side she was currently mending. It looked rather ugly, and Eve's lips pulled down in disapproval.

"What happened?"

---

BRIAR

Briar detected the shuffling of footsteps in the dead grass mere seconds before the culprit actually spoke, and her hand flew to one of her throwing knives on instinct, ready to send it flying. She wasn’t about to let an intruder take advantage of her vulnerable situation; she’d show them just how vulnerable she really was.

And then, she caught a glimpse of the stranger’s face in the firelight – and realized they weren’t a stranger after all. 

Evelyn Augustine stood before her, tall, pale, and gorgeous. A sight for sore eyes, albeit an extremely unexpected one. Briar relaxed her grip on the small dagger, replacing it in its holster on her thigh. A smirk tugged at her lips. “Leviathan happened, that’s what,” she sneered. She finally pulled her gaze away from Eve and went back to her stitching. She inhaled sharply as the needle pierced flesh once more; this sucked. “Self-righteous bitch.”

Briar was quiet for a moment as she made a few more stitches, wanting to get this over with. She jutted her chin at the campfire flickering before her, watching Eve from her peripheral. “You’re free to enjoy the warmth with me,” she offered, her tone a bit playful, but the offer was completely serious. “Whatcha doing out here, anyway, Moonlight?” 

---

EVELYN

Eve didn't budge, even at the threat of knives being hurled her way. Instead, she waited as patiently as she could for recognition to take over. Briar’s reaction left something to be desired, but it was fine. She was still alive, at least, and apparently pleased to see her. Maybe she'd hit her head. Elegant brows knitted in mild concern, lips twitching in what could have been amusement or disdain. "You're not dead,” was the pointed observation she made after a moment, angling her head as her platinum hair cascaded down her shoulders with the movement. 

There was a strange, ethereal glow to the woman as she moved closer to Briar and kneeled down. The armor she wore groaned in protest, clanking softly as she leaned in to get a good look at the injury apparently caused by Leviathan. It wasn't the worst she'd ever seen but boy, it was ugly. That serrated blade did work. "She could have killed you." Whether the words were impressed that she was alive or disgusted by Levi's actions would be left to interpretation; frankly, it was hard to tell with the deadpan delivery. 

"That thread won't hold." There was a brief, spilt second of indecision before Eve extended two fingers. Her golden eyes lifted to Briars, but they lacked any particular warmth. The Lightbinder was not a naturally comforting presence, she'd never been praised for her bedside manner.

Evelyn plunged her fingers into the space between them, before allowing her index to rest directly on the still-oozing wound. Briar's blood was stark against her pale skin, but the warm, sticky substance didn't bother Eve in the slightest. She spoke as she channeled her light directly into the wound, urging the skin to knit itself back together. "The villagers saw a fire," she explained, letting her fingers drag slowly across the Cinderlight’s abdomen. "I told them I'd investigate." 

---

BRIAR

She could have killed you. Briar snorted at that. “No shit,” she said, though there was no malice in her tone. A grin tugged at her lips as she added, “But she didn’t.” Her head thudded back against the tree trunk again, and she stared up at the starry sky as it poked through the bare tree branches above. “Though I almost wish she’d killed me. This sucks.” Now she was just being dramatic. 

She gave a hum of acknowledgment as Eve commented on the fact that the thread wouldn’t hold. “Of course it will, I’ve done this plenty of times.” Not on this scale, but flesh was flesh, was it not? This would probably just require more string. Still, she ceased her stitching and let her hands fall away, as if in defeat, watching Evelyn as she extended her pale, elegant hand. 

She winced a bit at the touch, wrinkling her nose in discomfort. She swore she could feel her innards being fused back together, fiber by fiber. The sensation wasn’t necessarily painful, and was a step above actual stitches as far as comfort went, but it wasn’t pleasant but any means. Strangely enough, it made her feel a little queasy. The pros outweighed the cons, however, and Briar stared almost dreamily at Eve as the woman worked. She seemed so deep in concentration that Briar was a little surprised when she spoke again. 

Oh, right, she’d asked the Lightbinder a question. “Guess I didn’t think about that,” she said, though the innocence was feigned; she’d definitely thought about that. She gestured toward the campfire. “That monster’s got everyone paranoid.” She’d been well aware that her decision to start a fire had been in poor taste, but she hadn’t particularly cared; it was fucking cold out here, and she hadn’t been about to drag her sorry ass back to the village like this. “Glad it was you who showed up to investigate, Moonlight. I’d been half expecting Sparky to come finish the job.”

---

EVELYN

The gentle hum of her light slowly turned to a needling, stinging sensation as Eve continued to pour her magic into Briar. It was uncomfortable, but not yet unbearable. Every now and then she readjusted her fingers, applying even pressure. Her face remained as stoic as it'd always been, though her lips occasionally twitched in amusement as she worked -- typically in response to Briar speaking.

"Didn't you?" Eve eventually said, some time later, trailing her fingers lightly over the mostly-closed flesh. It wasn't perfect, Eve realized as she pulled back to sit on her heels, but it wasn't at risk of busting open and bleeding now. Most of the internal damage had been mended, at the very least. "Wouldn't you be paranoid if your home nearly burned down?"

There was a sense Eve got that Briar wasn't being totally forthcoming with her response to the villagers’ concerns, but she wasn't going to push the matter. 

"Leviathan is chasing the Inferno." The nicknames Briar was dropping had not gone unnoticed, but she felt no desire to comment on it. "If she wanted to kill you, she would have." The statement itself was said so blandly, without certainty or pressure. "How do you feel now? Any pain?"

Her hand, as if growing a mind of its own, briefly extended towards Briar’s face before very slowly retracting. Golden eyes stared at the blood for a moment, as if it offended her with its sheer existence, before her hands dropped onto her armored thighs. Eve was still kneeling, but looking at Briar with a calm expectancy. 

---

BRIAR

Briar frowned a little at the comment that Leviathan would’ve been successful in killing her if that had been her true intention, but she wasn’t wholly convinced (mainly because she didn’t appreciate the implication). Thankfully, Eve didn’t have much else to say on the matter, and Briar was just glad it didn’t seem like she was defending the Pyroclast’s actions. Sure, maybe she’d kind of deserved it, but she’d stabbed that woman with a knife, gods dammit. That was nothing compared to a serrated javelin hurled towards her like an oversized throwing dart. 

She gently prodded the mended wound as Evelyn asked how she felt, marveling at the closure of the skin. It’d probably scar regardless of magic, but at least she didn’t have to worry about her insides falling out anymore, and for that, she was grateful. “It’s a bit tender, but I can live with that. A little light-headed, though.” She’d lost a lot of blood, and she felt ill as she looked down at the puddle that had formed beside her. That wasn’t even all of it.

Her gaze flickered back to Eve’s face as one of her slender hands reached toward her, and was a little disappointed when she didn’t follow through. Where had that come from? She watched Eve’s hands fall to her lap and offered a weak smile. “Thanks,” she said after a moment, gathering her discarded robe and pulling it back on, wrapping it tighter around her. Unfortunately, there was a giant hole in the side now, and though fixable, she certainly wasn’t putting in that kind of effort at the moment. She sighed, returning her needle and string to her sewing kit and slumping back against the tree. “You didn’t have to do that.” She knew the effects of using her own magic weren’t very pleasant, and if Eve’s magic had similar side effects, Briar hoped it hadn’t expended her too much; she damn well wasn’t worth it.

---

EVELYN

Eve watched Briar quietly as the other woman adjusted and repositioned, eventually thanking her. Her fair lips pursed in acknowledgement, but Eve didn't exactly respond. Instead, she rose to her feet and rolled her tight shoulders in an attempt to loosen tension. Unfortunately, her armor restricted some of her range of motion, so the movements were aborted and gave the impression she was more painful than she actually was. 

"I know."

The Lightbinder was all too aware that she didn't have to help Briar, in fact she couldn't really come up with a solid explanation for why she'd done it in the first place. The best she could convince herself of was that Leviathan was a bully, and bullies needed a come to Destiny moment. Though, truth be told, she didn't blame Leviathan for her actions, and probably would have done the same herself if their positions had been reversed. Either way, Levi was a bad enemy to make.Unpredictable, wild. Probably insane. Briar wasn't in immediate danger, but Eve had concerns. 

Golden eyes slanted to Briar, calculating as she studied her. There was a choice to be made here, perhaps. Part of Eve wanted to return to the village, go drop her aching body in a warm bed, forget this all even happened. The other part of her wanted to stick around, discover what Briar's next unhinged plan would be. At least it wouldn't be boring, and maybe Eve would be a calming influence on the Wildfire.

Eventually, at length, she asked: "What now?"

---

BRIAR

Her eyes had drifted shut for a few moments after Eve stood and spoke; she was tempted to ask why the Lightbinder had helped her, but she wasn’t actually sure she wanted to know the answer. It’d probably be something like, it was the right thing to do, which would only make Briar roll her eyes and gag, and she didn’t want to do that to Eve’s face. She listened to the crackling of the campfire for a moment, finally popping one eye open when Evelyn spoke once more.

She shrugged and gave a dramatic sigh. “I dunno. I could drag myself back to my room at the inn, but that’s sooo far, and I’m exhausted. Someone would probably have to carry me.” She was being dramatic again, but she dared Eve to say something about it. “I was planning on camping out here until my bones stopped hurting and enjoying the warmth of a controlled fire for once.” She stretched her arms out in front of her, interlacing her fingers and pushing her hands outward until her knuckles popped. Once she was satisfied, she repositioned and folded her arms behind her head, shutting her eyes again.

“You’re welcome to join me, if ya want. Misery loves company,” she said, kicking one foot in the direction of the fire. “S’nice and warm out here. Might not be very exciting, but…” She trailed off and gave another shrug. “Unless the monster comes back.”

---

EVELYN

I'm exhausted.

Eve was certain those words were not intended to be an admittance, but a mockery of the sentiment. Or, maybe it was a challenge? However, as she studied the slightly more hollow planes on Briar's face... she found herself believing the words. Whether or not the Firestarter wanted to admit it, she looked like she'd just gone through hell and back. There were reminders of just how much blood Briar had lost all around them, slowly seeping into the barren earth beneath. Frowning, Eve considered the other words Briar had so casually thrown out. Someone would probably have to carry me.

Briar was still talking, something about joining her? Odd request, but the Lightbinder wasn't really paying attention. "Close your eyes." 

In a singular fluid motion, Eve unsheathed her giant blade and launched an arc of snow directly onto the fire. It stuttered, but the flames didn't go out completely, so Eve took another swing - this time catching more snow and promptly dousing the fire. The sword was returned to its rightful place on Eve's back as the Lightbinder pulled her cloak from the hook it was fastened to on her pauldron, shaking it once or twice as to remove any lingering debris she'd picked up on the road. She wasn't cold at this point in time, not with the armor, but she knew Briar would be. Especially with the lack of blood running through her veins.

Eve wasted no time in advancing on Briar, taking a moment to kneel down in front of the Wildfire so she could wrap the cloak around her shoulders. Her eyes searched Briar's for what felt like an eternity: what she was searching for? Truly, she didn't have the slightest clue, Eve just hoped the other woman was going to trust her and not run her through when she moved next. "Hang on," was all she said before gathering the smaller woman in her arms, one hand on her back and the other under her knees, and making her way towards the village.

Briar was surprisingly light, but Eve wasn't complaining about that - it was just a bit unexpected. The Lightbinder shifted the other woman closer to her chest, hands firm where they rested, and did her best to support her neck and head in case Briar dropped all her weight just to be an asshole. 

---

BRIAR

Close your eyes. Huh? They were closed. Eve's words made Briar open her eyes again, just in time to watch the other woman use her sword to launch a volley of snow on her campfire. "Woah, hey--" she protested, leaning forward with an outstretched hand, as if she'd be able to do anything to stop Eve. A bolt of pain shot through her abdomen at the sudden movement, and instead her hand flew to her side, pressing against the wound as if she expected it to split back open. "--ow, fuck!"

She was too busy recoiling in pain to notice Eve moving closer to her, and only dimly heard her say, "Hang on." Suddenly, the ground fell out beneath her -- or rather, she was being lifted. Her initial reflex was to struggle -- fight against it -- but she was too caught off guard by the gesture to do anything at first. She opened her eyes and looked up at Eve's face, her blank expression, and a wide grin tugged at her lips. To be fair, she had said someone would need to carry her. 

Briar gave an airy sigh and lifted one hand to her forehead, letting her head lull back slightly. "Oh, my hero," she breathed. "How did you know I've been waiting for a stunning, pale maiden to sweep me off my feet. Or... I guess off my ass, in this case." Another dramatic sigh, and she turned into Eve's chest a bit, her body automatically seeking out the warmth of another. After a moment, she added, "Where are we going, Moonlight?" 

---

EVELYN

The urge to roll her eyes was probably the strongest it'd ever been at that 'oh, my hero' comment, and Eve assumed it was meant to throw her off -- just like everything else Briar seemed to do. It took an actual physical effort to stifle the motion and accompanying sigh that would have surely followed. However, the Lightbinder's steps did actually falter when it processed seconds later that Briar had just called her stunning. The other woman had been dropping compliments all night, but Eve had paid them little mind until now. For some reason, that one caused her to blank out for a moment.

Golden eyes shifted to study the Wildfire's face once more, after the few mortifying seconds it took her to recover, though her expression just looked a bit pinched in response. Again, everything the other woman said was so damn casual, and she dropped bombs without a second thought; was she even aware of it? Eve believed Briar meant what she said, because in Eve's honest opinion: Briar's mouth was just working faster than her brain, and the Wildfire had learned to be unapologetic about her opinions. An interesting tactic, to be sure... one that probably got her into quite a bit of trouble. 

A brow twitched as Eve realized she was definitely overanalyzing the woman in her arms, so she resumed walking and allowed her strides to lengthen to a more comfortable pace. Her face remained carefully blank as Briar nestled closer, though she did adjust her arms minutely to further allow the movement and almost hated herself immediately after.

"You have a bed at the inn," Eve said, patiently -- as if to a child -- when Briar asked where they were headed. "I'm 'joining you', as you asked," she clarified, then added: "The fire was in poor taste."

---

BRIAR 

Briar seemed sort of stumped by Eve's response; sure, she had invited the Lightbinder to join her, but she hadn't expected her to take up the offer. Color her pleasantly surprised. She snorted at the comment about the fire though. "Probably," she said. "I'll keep that in mind for next time. Sorry." She definitely did not sound sorry. In fact, the audacious grin on her lips was clearly detectable in her voice. Not that the Lightbinder was the one she owed an apology to, anyway. 

For now, she was content to lapse into silence as Eve carried her back to the village. She really was tired, and was grateful for the transport; she didn't think her legs would make it all the way back if she'd had to walk, which was why she'd been prepared to camp out for the rest of the night. If Eve wanted to carry her the entire way, though, she certainly wasn't going to complain. At the moment, it seemed like she was finally too tired to say much of anything at all. 

That didn't mean her brain had stopped working. As she was cradled in the other woman's arms, Briar couldn't help but find amusement in the fact that the Lightbinder had actually been trying to kill her about this time of evening, several weeks ago. Yet, here Briar was now, nestled comfortably in her surprisingly robust arms and contemplating the faint scent that clung to the other woman. Was that pine?

---

… to be continued…