Lion Head Mesa I look up at the gaps of sunlight

Disa. He sucked in a sharp breath, his own frustration flaring up in response. Maybe you should have told me, Panacea countered, quiet but razor-edged, before he could bite back the words. He turned away abruptly, and when he spoke again it was softer, weary now: It's fine. I can handle it. I'm not fragile.

We should see what's around here, anyway, he went on, still not looking at Kemal. Instead he swept his gaze toward the mesa itself. Might as well not waste another trip.