Thirty-two

"He doesn't sound it," Weft said, "and you'd better not have broken him, Sylvie."

"I'm sorry about that." She indicated the cut vines. "I'm afraid I... misjudged the situation."

She looked at Weft with a hint of a frown. "But this was more gentle than having to stop him mid-attack would have been. If you hadn't been joking." Her mien changed to an apologetic grimace, and she looked away.

"Don't make me call you two 'children'," Sebastian grumbled like a senile retirement home occupant and got up about as fast as one.

"If you weren't so bent on keeping the wretched chicken animal alive..." Weft stopped himself short and observed the grouch in case any injuries showed up suddenly that hadn't been noticeable while horizontal.

Sylvie sighed and nearly kept herself from rolling her eyes.
She was so nervous and undecided - should she offer help, should she insist he leave the animal alive - that she just kept quiet.

Sebastian took a deep breath and looked toward Sylvie. "Thanks, Sylvie. I don't really know what just happened - I think. But... thank you."

Then he looked back at Weft, swaying just slightly to one side - and regaining his balance almost automatically. He tried to make sense of what the monk was possibly thinking, but he couldn't. "Are you somehow angry, Weft? You've gone from... Mr. Joy to Mr. Executioner. I'm not sure if that's necessary."

He half-rolled his eyes to get a glimpse of the treetops and sky. "I think I'll just... lie down," Sebastian muttered and, carefully, sat back down on the ground.

"I'm not -- it -- I'll be as much fun as you like once I know you'rr..."

(Weft had changed his mind mid-R.)

"...revenge will be served against this chicken beast," he finished hastily. The lithe little feather-spitter stalked across to stand over the griffin and was gratified to see it panic.

"This is all your fault," he told it, glaring downwards and enjoying its uncomprehending fear.

The way he kept flinging blame around hinted strongly that, inside, Weft was blaming someone completely different.

Sylvie wanted to yell at him and stop him, but, mostly in consideration of Sebastian, said quite calmly, "Weft, you'll have to tell me some time how that silly creature managed to corner two men and drop a branch on one of them. Right now you'd better do something useful for a change, like shut up and calm down." There was a slight edge to her voice at the end, but she didn't even look at him, watching the half-elf instead.

The worst thing was, throughout all of this, Weft still found the entire branch drop stunt painfully funny. Feeling guilty for having to stifle giggles even while angry didn't help his state of mind.

His pale green eyes whisked up and across her face, but he did shut up and he didn't take out anything deadly.

"You know, it's more like... uh... I dropped the branch," Sebastian muttered a little embarrassedly and blinked at the foliage, hoping the world would stop rocking. It felt like he was at open sea, and that wasn't one of his favourite places. Sea wolves, now, those he could understand, but sea foxes... nuh uh!

Oh gods, this state of mind really wasn't any good for him at all, was it? "Ahh, let's forget about the revenge," he mumbled and covered his eyes.

Now that was worrying. All right, even if it was a ploy to get the other two to stop arguing, it was masterfully done.

Weft shot Sylvie a stricken look and crouched nearish Sebastian.

"Sebastian, would you let me check over your head? I think you hit it..."

He looked too miserable to be mocked.

And that was saying a lot.

"Oh, sure," he said, waving his hand to the side as if to say it wasn't that bad. Except that, well, it probably was, he mused pursed his lips unhappily. He lowered the hand covering his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. "Not going anywhere, am I," he finally said with faint frustration.

Sylvie knelt down behind Sebastian and laid her hands gently on his head. She closed her eyes, and stretched her feelers. She wanted to say something to put him at ease. "Well, at least you picked a nice spot to knock yourself out." At least the tone was quiet and friendly.

On the levels Sylvie could check, things seemed to be in order - no broken bones or wounds -, apart from a bump on the back of his head.
"Fell on a stone or so..." she murmured, and dug her fingertips carefully into his hair. "This will itch a bit," she informed him, and 'repaired' that small damage. It didn't take long.

She moved to the side, so that Sebastian could see her. "The bad part is that I can't do anything about the dizzyness. The good part is that it won't last long, anyway."

Sebastian grinned nervously at the joke and shivered a little as she probed whatever injury he had there and... then did things to it. He couldn't remember when someone had even touched his scalp like that.

He blinked owlishly at her. "Oh, good. Thanks."

A look at Weft. Sylvie. Weft. Sylvie.

He didn't know what to say, and it made him feel very insecure.

Weft had an arm resting on one of his knees, was kneeling with the other and was leaning a little way forward - far enough to watch Sylvie's every action like a cat.

Of course he wanted her to do anything she could, but he'd still kill her without a thought if she botched it. Or maybe he wouldn't. Sebastian wouldn't like it.

That meant he couldn't do anything, though, and since a good monk knows how to be ornamental when his input isn't required (plus there was that matter of being told to shut up), he had nothing to say, either.

"May I suggest a nap?" Sylvie moved away from Sebastian a bit and scanned the surroundings, since the half-elf was obviously uncomfortable being watched.

"I'm sure with Weft around you don't have to fear any..." chickens eating your head "...thing."

"Maybe later. You're right about Weft though," Sebastian said, realising belatedly how certain he had sounded about it, and out loud to boot. Things were beginning to connect in his mind - and the more they did, the stranger and more worried -- no, embarrassed -- he felt about the entire thing.

He covered his mouth with a hand and blinked at Weft a few times dumbly.

Weft's expression... softened. "Well. At least you haven't entirely scrambled your brains, then."

As far as he was concerned, we should point out, he'd merely been paid a straightforward compliment. Twice over.

He supposed he should return the favour. Turning to Sylvie, who was standing over towards the chicken, he said "Good work." It sounded the more sincere for being ever so slightly grudging.

"Thank you", Sylvie answered with a slightly bashful smile. She decided she would take that including getting the branch out of the way, because otherwise it was hardly worth mentioning.

Since standing around doing nothing was just as awkward as watching someone who needed some time to recover, and since she was still curious about the creature, she went over to the strange griffin to have a closer look.