Whitefish River You-you-you-you threw my sandwich away. *MY* sandwich?

"No one is dying." His words quick on the edge of her own. "No one is dying." He repeated once again, louder this time. In case she hadn't heard him the first. He shook his head with a wary, exhausted, fake laugh. "No one is dying." He repeated once more only a whisper this time, his head dropping to his chest.

"How could you." While the words were phrased like a question, it was really more of a statement. How could she. Emrik could not remember a time when he had been so furious with her, so angry that words couldn't help. "You were ALONE outside the territory. ALONE SPEEDY! ANYTHING could have happened!" And the pacing started again. His pattern a small box, as he walked around and around, his feet moved quickly. Frantic.

"And what then. WHAT THEN! What IF something had happened? Hm?" He turned on her suddenly, finally his emotions cracking. Tears collecting in the corner of each eye, tears of fury and immense worry. "What am I supposed to do without you? What about our kids?" Realizing how that sounded he turned away again, "Not the ones you are carrying, but Acheron, Syrma, and Spica. What am I supposed to tell them? God Speedy, how could you."