Foul Temper

She wanted to say something along the lines of, 'Do you think you can stop me on three legs?' but held her tongue. They were making progress here. He was being less sulking. Less childlike. His gruff tones were an indication that he was thinking again. She tilted her head though when he began speaking of positions of strength and other things. "You don't know a thing about diplomacy, do you?"

Sirius confessed to having an emergency store of goods and Iolaire nodded. "It's a start." He was trying to hard to hold himself tall, but the physical exertion was too much for him. He stumbled and tried to right himself and the small woman growled. "Enough, Sirius. SIT. DOWN!" Moving forward, she gave his chest a push. "You're doing more harm than good. Every ounce of strength that you waste is a second longer that it will take you to heal." She stared hard at him. "The faster you heal, the faster we can set things right for everyone." Couldn't he understand that everyone needed him to be whole? "Your only job right now is to rest and to heal. I'm taking care of things."

"Listen to me, Big Guy," she used her term of endearment for him, a bit of softness seeping into her steely gaze. "I'm doing things that will strengthen the Ashen. Doing my part. Doing what I know I'm good at." She would form diplomatic ties with whomever she could manage. Others who were less susceptible, well... at least she would know where they stood. "You need to do your part. Heal. Get back on your feet and be the leader that I know you want to be. That I know you can be."