MagFirmary

Moon Called closes her eye at Saurous' touch. She turns her head towards his hand, lifting her own to press it against her cheek. For a moment she simply lays here, trying to focus on the simple and yet greatly comforting feeling of his touch.

Finally, she opens her eye and looks back up at Saurous, just in time to catch his smile. For a moment it makes her feel better. She returns the smile weakly. "I picked up some new moves in Spire." She says. And then a thought occurs to her.

Saurous never smiled. She'd known him for a long time, and she could count on both her hands how many times he'd given her anything more genuine than an amused smirk. The fact that he was smiling now was more worrisome than comforting. Her own smile slips from her lips and she looks up at the necromancer. "You're trying to make me feel better." She states. "Why? What's wrong?"

[hr]

Beckett's Clinic

Beckett glances over at Iriel, and frowns when he sees her shaking. He walks over to her, reaching out take her hands in his own in a comforting gesture. If she pulls away at all or looks uncomfortable he'll back away immediately. "Hey." He says, softly. "Hey. It's alright." The medic gives her his best smile. "We'll be fine. The clinic is warded against unholy creatures and I can defend it in case anything attacks. And who knows how well that robot-kobold and his wolfhound can fight? If anything happens we'll be fine." Beckett doesn't mention that he has no idea if the anti-vampire wards around his clinic will hold up against eldritch monsters. "And besides. We can't be the only survivors. I've got a ham radio around here somewhere, and there might be a TV broadcast. Why don't you go upstairs and check the TV channels for me while I get packed?"