#( threads.kun )

[stcrmings]

the rain has yet to burst over tortuga; dark clouds rumble overhead the SAWBONE, but KUN pays little mind as they inspect NED's back. // @bovndlcss

feather-light touch along broken skin, they lean forward. sniffs once, twice. "lucky, lucky," they murmur. no stench of rot coats the back of their throat, and the wounds have closed. they expected oozing puss, but the worst infections spared the new face before her. still, the wounds remain tender. fresh, in a way that time has yet to take root to heal them.

"any itching?" they step back, pouring a mug of ale over a rag. "i will need to make a new poultice, so don't spare any details or hedge your answer. withholding is a fool's choice, and no one takes kindly to a fool, hmm?"

[stcrmings]

high noon stretches hot along the paths through tortuga. KUN leans against the front of SAWBONE, seemingly unfazed, though a bottle does rest at their feet, condensation dripping as if it was once cold.

every breath tastes more like heat than it does salt, and it fuels kun's burning irritation. it would matter less, perhaps, if not for the crown's ships at the edge of the horizon. but the ships exist, a taunting rule, and kun can do little except nurture their own spite at the sight.

eyes flick to a newcomer turning the corner. the apothecary straightens, hand held up in pause. "need to know what you're here for before you enter. if you so please."

[stcrmings]

sunlight streams through the cracks at SAWBONE, and KUN works on supplying LUIS with the limited inventory they possess. // @holdfasts

relief steals their breath. supplies arrived. limited, still rationed, but they won't need to dilute as much any longer. they don't have to think of any who may have passed when there wasn't enough. they cannot dwell on how many died in excruciating pain than blissful peace.

"this game of desperation . . . despicable." kun growls the last word, low as thunder in the distance, but luis will hear. "it'll take months to properly restore my inventory. and the crown will keep doing this, knowing someone else will break. and why wouldn't they?"

a hot, long exhale. they press a cork into the glass, setting the tincture aside. "no matter --- what are you in need of?"