{se} hold the line, your breath, my hand

evie The kind of flawless I wish I could be Evie is usually the one to tell him to slow down, to take care of himself, but they have so rarely both been called to the same cause at the same dire hour. She hopes it speaks to their dedication as Wardens instead of their foolhardy self-sacrificing tendencies, but only time would tell. Taking the canteen when it's offered - for who knew when she'd next have a moment of repose and refreshment - she takes more than she'd taken from Alys' flask before handing it back. "It's likely too much for even you to push back. It will need to evaporate or soak in on its own, I suspect." Which is precisely why she uses some of it to water the seeds of the plants she grows, and why she parts little channels in the earth to allow water to pool away from the new growth so they don't drown in too much of it. "I've been evaporating what I can though, just don't go overboard while growing too." She tries for a shrewd, playful look that she has mastered for him over the years, but it's a tired thing. His laughter is much the same, and Evie can only utter a similar sound and shake her head. "Snatches here and there in corners of the infirmary, though they snuck up on me each time." None of them willing or planned. Glancing down at the thick green carpet they've started growing, Evie slows her steady steps until she is merely staring back at the ribbon of color she's been fostering the past few days. "What if we just...laid down here for a bit?" She looks over at him, something earnest in her gaze, hoping he will hear her out. "I have to make sure we rest eventually. One of us has to pull the metaphorical pin, right?" Who better than the healer to enforce those ideals? Even if the Warden in her chest fights tooth and nail, the doctor inside is older, wiser, and it doesn't stand a chance.