Moonspear you can drive your knife through my chest now

Despite the complete 180 in her feelings towards the man, his well-being was still in the forefront of her mind. Hydra's words rang in her mind — don't abandon your duty. She also still did care for him. At least a little. Lyra felt her lip lift slightly at the thought as she wandered, following his scent. Okay, maybe a lot.

She sought @Rannoch out now for a check-up. It had been a few weeks following the incident and despite him now having his precious Liffey back, Lyra still wanted to make sure he was doing okay physically. Yet her paws felt like they had a weight tied to them, venomous words feeling like would spill from her jaws as soon as she saw them.

There. She saw the hulking figure of the man up ahead and forced herself forwards, letting a delightfully sweet (but fake) smile cross her features. She let out a chuff to get his attention, inwardly sighing with relief as she noticed the scent of Liffey was absent.

It had seemed like an entirety since Lyra and Rannoch had last connected and, in their time apart, he was left to wonder what had happened the day that Liffey had arrived at Moonspear. When he was out and about, the Iota had done his best to reconnect, but, it had always seemed as though the blue-eyed Medic was always a step ahead of him. Rannoch did his best to push any worry away, but, despite his best efforts, he felt concerned for his friend. 

Lyra's call came to him as he carefully picked his way down the mountain. Before being beckoned, every step of his had been placed with care as he was still concerned about navigating the mountainside while recovering. But, with the reason of greeting the Medic, Rannoch felt relieved to have a break from his descent. 

"Lyra, hey!" Rannoch greeted with a smile as he turned to face her, his tail wagging and his head in a bowed position to acknowledge her higher rank.

His handsome smile and cheery greeting almost caused her to flinch as if he had physically struck her. He was acting like nothing had even happened (and, in truth, he would be completely forgiven for thinking nothing had). Lyra's fatal flaw was the sole reason for all her distress and, unfortunately, it was all directed at the two young lovers. Her light-hearted facade remained but there was a stiffness still to her shoulders that betrayed her trepidation.

Her tail waved rigidly and she offered back a smile. "Hi, Rannoch." She didn't want to look at him, or even remain in his presence really, but she had a job to do. His recovery was solely in her paws. Her eyes ranged from his face to the scar along his neck noting that, despite being a bit of an eyesore, it was healing quite nicely and didn't seem to be infected. "Any pain?" she asked with a quirk of her muzzle towards his wound.

When asked about how he felt, Rannoch shrugged lightly and smiled. "It's certainly better, thanks to you." After all, Lyra had done an incredible job of remedying the pain, and it was almost to the point where he was used to him having the scar. Of course, there had been some off-hand occasions where he had woken up with pain in his neck, but these instances had happened less in less as time went on. 

"The only times I really feel anything are in the morning when I wake up," he said, well aware of that she was already knowledgeable of this fact. "But, it's been happening a lot less since the last time I told you." Curious to know if there was anything else he could do, he asked,  "Is there anything I can do to help prevent it?" 

Thanks to you. Lyra looked away suddenly as he spoke, feeling a pang in her chest as he thanked her. She couldn't deny that she liked the validation — especially from him — but it still hurt somehow. Almost as if she felt a little guilty for her fresh hatred of the man. The conflicting feelings where quickly pushed to one side however, as Lyra tried to refocus on her patient.

She nodded, almost clinically so, as he explained when the scar caused him discomfort; at least it was on the mend if what he said was anything to go by. When asked if she knew of anything that could relieve the occasional pain, the girl shifted uncomfortably. Why should I even help you, a voice in her head sneered but she ignored it, instead smiling back at Rannoch. "I...I may have some herbs," she said thoughtfully, though really, the only plant that came to mind was the yellow flower that had been her miracle find for both Rannoch and Terance.

She gave a gentle tilt of her head as gesture for him to follow as she wandered past (taking care not to even let a single hair brush against his). "I think I know where some are."

When Lyra gestured, Rannoch took the hint and turned to follow after. He did not take note of the care the medic had taken to ensure that they didn't touch and, as such, he was all the more oblivious to the issue that brewed beneath Lyra's cheerful exterior. 

"So, what are we going to find?" Rannoch asked as he pulled himself to walk at Lyra's side. "Anything I've ever tried before?"

If he knew of Lyra's thinly veiled contempt towards him, he didn't show it. Rannoch seemed to happily follow along with an equally cheery question. She felt her muzzle twitch, trying to twist into a snarl but she resisted.

"There's these flowers I used to treat your wound, they might help," she explained, avoiding eye contact as she cast her gaze past him and into the forest. They were a common flower, so she knew they wouldn't have to walk far to find some. "They're yellow," she added, almost abruptly so, before lapsing into defiant silence.

Something seemed off; that much Rannoch realized once Lyra had replied. The warmth that had once filled Lyra's voice had stiffened, and her commentary seemed brief in comparison to their previous conversations. He frowned at this realization, finding himself unsure of what he could do to remedy whatever happened between them. Rannoch's expression appeared troubled as he nodded stiffly in reply to her explanation. 

"I-Is everything... okay?" he tested hesitantly after a pause. Rannoch would tread carefully, choosing his words with care, as he did not want to worsen the situation. If nothing was the matter, as Rannoch hoped, he elaborated his unease, "I was just wondering. You don't seem as conservational as usual." With his concern expressed, the Iota's ears dropped, and he bit his lower lip as he anticipated her answer with baited breath.

His tentative question made Lyra feel simultaneously relieved and infuriated. Partly, she was glad he had realised her pent up anger but on the other hand, did he simply not realise why? She thought it was obvious, but apparently this was not the case. The fur along her neck bristled and she whipped around to face him, ready to spew hatred his way but she bit her tongue at the very last second.

"I-it's fine," she choked. "Everything's fine." She averted her gaze once again and stalked forwards, trying to walk off her fury. Her attempt to brush it off was short lived, however, and she almost immediately turned back to look at him, unable to resist the temptation of interrogating the poor boy. "Just...why her, though? Why Liffey?"

The throttle in Lyra's voice confounded her initial statement and led Rannoch to believe that she wasn't okay. As she stalked forward, he followed after her falteringly, unable to address his disbelief in her assertion. He found that such rebuttals often lead to more stress and that was something he didn't want. Lyra was a dear friend, and he wanted things between them to be cordial again. 

Just as quickly as she had stormed off, she turned again and asked a question that immediately puzzled him: why Liffey? He paused, unable to comprehend what had been asked; it was evident that he was not aware of her feelings.

"Why Liffey... what?" Rannoch asked with a cautious frown.

So he definitely didn't realise what was going on. She guessed she wasn't too surprised; Rannoch was similar to Charon in that they could both be a little dense at times (though of course she held her father in a much, much higher regard, especially after this whole Liffey ordeal). She watched stone-faced as the boy let out a jumbled question.

"How much does she mean to you?" More than the ones who saved your life? "What do you even see in her?"

Rannoch wasn't a fan of where their conversation was heading. As Lyra pressed on the intimate details of his and Liffey's relationship, Rannoch grew uncomfortable. "She means everything to me," he replied as his ears hastily fell upon his head. The manner in which she approached him with made him feel defensive, despite him being oblivious to the motives behind the questions she asked.

"She's ... perfect for me," couldn't Lyra see that? "She's kind, smart, funny..." he trailed then, fixing the pack's medic with a look of uncertainty. "Why, Lyra? What's wrong?" 

She could see his discomfort as evident by the way his ears flattened against his skull, but the girl kept her piercing stare upon him. A weird mix of Hydra's dominance and Alya's ruthlessness had overtaken her as she attempted to pry information from the poor man. That he was really just an innocent party in all of this was a fact she was blind to, all she saw was someone who had betrayed her.

His confession of how perfect Liffey was for him almost caused the girl wince. She didn't think the pale girl was any of those things; the opposite, in fact. She turned away, unable to withhold angry tears. "But why her and no—..." Lyra bit her tongue. Suddenly she didn't want to talk about Liffey anymore. She didn't want to talk to Rannoch anymore. She shot him a venomous glare once more before turning away, completely unaware of how volatile she seemed from an outsider's perspective. "Fine, go to be happy with your perfect Liffey then."

The girl then took off a quick trot, slipping into the tree line and disappearing among the shadows.

Lost and troubled by Lyra's tantrum, Rannoch watched her with evident confusion as she stormed off. Their conquest for herbs was long forgotten, and he could only dwell on what had he had done to have her react in such a way. 

When he could not come to a logical conclusion, Rannoch slowly turned and wandered off in the opposite direction with no particular destination in mind. The conversation had produced an influx of worry in his mind and an uncomfortable souring in his stomach and, for the time being, he just wanted to be alone so he could reflect on what had happened.