Herbalists' Cache The demon sat there waiting on her porch

Just relax.

Some part of her wanted to just slip away to the sound of that voice. It didn't matter so much that it came from Stark. The sounds were comforting on a basic level, and maybe familiar in the sense that she hadn't heard a voice for so long, and now could listen to one. She wasn't alone. Maybe Tavi did understand him and her body was simply out of her control? There was no way to avoid listening; she seemed to burrow closer, or maybe lost a little more of her sense of self as the moments wore on. Either way, she stagnated, doing precisely as he wished.

Except not really. Stark couldn't have wished for her to end yet — to fade and leave him, and Tambourine. He was wishing so desperately to be normal, for everything to go backwards, but there was no way to avoid the progression of this disease. As Tavi relaxed her heart seemed to slow, and tire, just as the rest of her already had. Muscle spasms remained a constant thing throughout her body (her haunches, her shoulders, sometimes one eye closing and opening), but her breathing leveled out.

It was not yet time, but close. Maybe all that she needed was someone to bear witness to these last moments? Someone to usher her on to the next stage.