Swiftcurrent Creek Insidious disaster

The long sideways gaze only gave Fox time to confirm what she had already known: this was Haunter, and he was not well. While he looked fine in all physical regards, there was something decidedly wrong with the way he looked at her, the way he carried himself, and the way his voice sounded distant and pained. Fox's mouth twisted into a grimace, then into a frown, before she approached him without regard to her own safety. Suddenly, any thoughts of her suitors melted away, and she only had eyes for him. It was always supposed to be him, and the fact that he had returned only solidified this in her mind.

Meant to be.

Carefully, she lapped at his cheek, should he allow it, and drew back to look at him with hard, scrutinizing eyes. He bore no wounds like the one she now carried on her chest, nor had he been limping. “Where does it hurt?” she asked. Fox knew nothing of healing. In fact, she thought it was all a waste of time. But right here, right now, she would have given anything to have Lecter here to help him.