Dragoncrest Cliffs every demon wants his pound of flesh,

She nodded at the name given, but lightly shook her head at his mention of intruding, ”Think nothing of it, yet I appreciate your concern,” looking back up to him, a wan look in her eyes. ”Just some... rumination, is all.” Ha! More like a whole lotta self-pity. In her mind, it was justified, because another’s life had been put at risk, and she’d nearly failed to keep her promise up to polish. Of course, not to have a gleaming reputation, but more-so a genuine guilt at almost having lost a life—an important one. The new scars she bore were nothing compared to what Tux had experienced, and might still be. 

She bit her lips over Dio’s next words, found herself nodding along to them, eyes flickering away, low. A quiet ”Hm” left her, enough for him to inquire her, and she gave a soft, mirthless laugh. ”As good as one can be, joining in ze midst of a war.” She glanced away for a moment, and then reiterated, peering into his drawn face, ”Truthfully? I am exhausted. Utterly exhausted, despite my relief that seeing Drakru heal brings me...”

Aure hadn’t heard of Portia’s passing; hadn’t even known who Portia was, or the male before her. Nevertheless, she piped with, open and unfettered, ”Speaking, seeing others... it has become a bit surreal, to me. I’ve steeped myself so far into ze apothecary, I... sometimes forget that I am treating something that lives. Breathes.” Ending it with a mute shake of her head.