@inevestigator cares for ferona while sick.
"you can't tell teia or viago-" her voice comes out hoarse, full of.. shame? she leans back against the couch, her eyes full of tears she won't allow herself to shed. ferona's breathing is heavy, slow. in through the nose, out through the mouth. like she's trying to keep herself from panicking.
alessio has gone, now that the 'poison' had been fixed, now that she had taken her antivenin, and ro is left with neve, who has dutifully taken to reminding her as she comes down that the walls are not, in fact, talking. there are no shadows with daggers here in the lighthouse. "they'd be so disappointed..." she should know better than to take an unknown substance, no matter who was offering it to her.
in her defense, davrin and emmrich had both said the tea would be fine. no one had said anything about bad reactions, bad consequences. no one said griffons would talk, or trees would try to grab her. no one mentioned that the shadows would try to kill her, or that alessio would have to fix her. her hair is brushed from her face by the detective, who is looking at her like a puzzle she's trying to put together.
her skin feels too hot and too tight, and neve presses her chilled hand to ro's forehead. the crow sighs in relief. "'sio's never going to let me live this down..."
