Neverwinter Forest [m] Places far away and we're not you and me, but

Tact and diplomacy had been taught to Catamaran just as well as it had been his sisters. In his adult life, he used it as a tool to keep himself alive and in good favor. It had been natural to use it his dealings with Seastorm, more and more liberally as they grew used to one another's presence. But there was a place, too, for honesty and pragmatism. It was a mark of his respect for her that he felt more and more need to speak plainly.

Respect, right then, felt as though it had somehow fallen short. She came to him reluctantly, begrudgingly, sullen even if she was not quite cold. That, too, was her right.

But if he was honest with himself, Catamaran knew he didn't like it.

"When I said I would feed you, I said it in good faith." he told her, giving in to the urge to try and fix things. "We're both meant to get something out of it — and you won't get any better if you keep straining the break."

He was no healer, but he knew that much.

Catamaran pressed the tip of his muzzle to her nape.

"I don't want to use other people," he told her, his voice low as if admitting to some great weakness. He knew it was a terribly naive sentiment to carry, and he expected it would lower her estimation of him. But, for reasons currently beyond him, he wanted her to understand. "We made a trade. You get a chance to rest and heal, and I get this. It doesn't matter if I wanted more. I'd be worse than useless to you if I was keeping you from healing."

And he knew he didn't want to be that.