Moonspear from a black widow's reckoning, your fortuitous spine

His sombre response caused her brow to knit together in concern, but Lyra resisted the urge to groom him once more, as if it would do something to ease his discomfort. Though she knew his uncharacteristic lethargy was something that only he would be able to heal. Herbs and support could only do so much — it was up to Osiris to overcome this dour state he had gotten himself into.

"Do not feel too bad; so long as you are well rested," she soothed, knowing half the pack were creatures of the night, regardless. He would never be without company upon the mountain, no matter what time of the day.

At his own question, the Ostrega was slightly taken aback; unused to patient's asking about her own health. She relished the opportunity to vent when it was Hydra or Alya asking, though all others were only afforded a curt reply. To Osiris, though? "Oh, I'm doing...well," she replied, her stoicalness faltering for a moment. "I — we — have just been worried for you."