Welcome to Gaia! ::

Hvergelmir nodded her acceptance of Chariklo's answer, then Ida's. In truth, she worried for both of them -- two incredibly dear women with such high callings whose fates and whose actions she felt like she had no control over. There was no following Chari into the city, no keeping her from risking her life and her soldiers' lives to make sure that the camp got the daily supplies they needed; likewise, there was no keeping Ida away from the hospital or stopping her from bleeding herself almost dry trying to call up her royal magic on a constant basis. They gave everything they could, and Hvergelmir had neither the power, the right, nor the foolishness to tell them no.

These were hard times. No one had the luxury of being asked for anything less than the very best they had to give. No one knew if even that was going to be enough anymore.

Maybe they'd all gone wrong, somewhere. She liked to think that -- that somewhere, there had been some unseen choice that had led them all to this meager existence, living off of scraps in the woods, never more than a day or two away from starvation or extinction. If there wasn't much hope now -- and it was hard to believe there was -- it was at least nice to imagine that there had been more hope, once -- back when they'd all been so much younger and so much more sure of it. There was still some refuge to be had in nostalgia. Sometimes, backwards was the only sunny place to look.

Yesterday was another day they'd survived. Today was black as tar.

Orah's pretty lips had just about come free of it, though, come to notice -- if bruise-red and swollen-raw from the harsh treatment. A niggling little temptation came into her head, and she dismissed it just as quickly -- an idle fancy, as ever, to be kept in the imagination where these things belonged. Instead, she set the pumice stone down for a moment to direct a new question -- this one at the Dark Mirror princess.

How is city life these days? she signed over at her. Are you keeping your energy up? If you pass out I will assault you with chicken soup.

She wiped the loose tar bits off of the stone and set back to work scrubbing the area around Orah's chin in repetitive circles.

"They're stepping up their game..." Orah said softly as she slanted a glance over at Chariklo. "The more we retreat, the braver they get and the more they start to take from the people... at the same time tightening their hold as they try to drive the last of us out of hiding. We've seen that with the new travel permits. Its just going to keep getting worse..."

But what could they even do, anymore? Once, when the Negaverse had held less control, they might have been able to do something... she had thought they were holding their own, for a while there. Before everything fell apart and people died. The thought made Orah ache and she pushed it stubbornly away, as she always did, to focus on her hands.

The palms were free, if red and sore, and she had most of the in-between her fingers cleared... Reaching for some gauze, the young woman wiped free what had come loose and cleaned the pumice stone before tackling the last of the tar on her hands. Part of her was thankful Hver had moved on from her lips, leaving them to burn undisturbed, but moving on meant a new part of her subjected to the painful scrubbing. She wished this was easier... they dealt with it so often, you'd think they would have found some way to make it better.

"You know we would love having you and the family around full time. I know its rough out here, but it would be nice to know you're all safe..." Reaching across the cramped space, Orah offered her hand to Chariklo, her eyes solemn. "I owe you a lot, Princess. If you ever need anything I can provide, its yours. Anything I can do, I'll do."