Dragoncrest Cliffs Oh how the moon glows

i just went ahead and wrote a conclusion post & archived this b/c it seemed like a good place to end it. i hope that's ok! c:

The truth was: Eske wasn’t sure how severely ill the Commander was or if she would recover at all. The Fleimkepa believes that she will because to believe anything else was beyond imagining but Eske is no healer and such a thing is not something she can determine. She knows what death looks like: the flicker of defiant life before it snuffs out entirely but that is when it is inventible and far too late. “Good.” His words of looking forward to pleasing them please her in turn. “I’ll hold you to that.” She almost wants to ask him for a spar right then and there. She is restless for one: the familiar agitation stirring in her muscles, in her bones. Even a friendly spar runs too much of a risk of taking an injury and she cannot afford to be down while the Commander is relying on her to run Drageda so she can recover without worry.

Eske gives him the tour of Drageda, being sure to point out caches and other important need-to-know’s along the journey before at it's end she parts way from the newest Kru to seek out Portia and request her usual run-down of how Thuringwethil was doing and if there was any sign yet of recovery.