the blood you bleed is just the blood you owe

Maea

And I hope that you don't suffer
But take the pain

He tried to pretend that he wasn't bothered by the enmity with the General, but Maea knew him better than that. The more casual he sounded, the heavier the weight was that he tried to shrug off. Her hand went to his cheek automatically, knuckles already stroking his jaw when she caught herself, and the gesture faltered. Some hesitance creeping into the motion, like she wasn't sure it was still... something she ought to do. Gods, what did it mean to need time? And had that started yet? "I'm... sure he'll come around, eventually," she said, hoping it would mask her awkwardness. Not knowing if what she said was true; she didn't know Deimos.

His finger poking her in the ribs made her flinch away though, ticklish, and a smile twisted at her lips.. a little peeved, a little amused too. "Can't help it... I never got a lot to eat, growing up. And I've a hard time building muscle." Which annoyed her to no end. Maea poked his swelling chest muscles back with some envy... then her hand kind of stuck there. Lingering, transfixed by the feel of him under her hand.

Thank the gods for dragons, and Loren, to change the subject with again. Maea nodded confirmation, her hands gesturing in the air for emphasis as she explained. "We were at Popoa, trying to make a better map of the area, and he was scouting as a goose. And then I asked what it was like to fly, and he showed me. I have to say, it was far better sitting on the dragon than dangling from its claws, like the first time he did that." She actually laughed, quiet and amused, recalling how she'd first met their mutual friend.

"Oh, my writing is too. But... since I've never gotten any letters from you before, I wouldn't know." Maea had only learned to write properly this season, now that her eyes were fully functioning again.

Hope if everybody runs
You choose to stay