courtesy call

The wounded Tyrant was finally beginning to heal, his leg could support him and he had added little bits of activity to his schedule to keep himself moving. He knew it wouldn’t be long now before he was fully operational. In the meantime, he made his way from the Oasis to the Plains to check on his territory. He didn’t tell Io, knowing the healer would likely protest if she caught him.

By the time he reached the Plains, his leg was aching something fierce, and he was breathing heavily. He paused, giving himself a moment to calm and catch his breath, when he heard the sound of Luce. Oh shit he thought of the frying pan, into the fire.

He sighed, gave himself a moment to soothe his features, and forced himself to walk with a minimum a limp as possible, though he could hardly hide his injury well he was wearing a cast. He would see Banshee first, coming at an angle behind his pupil, and then Luce next. “Luce, it’s been a while” he said, they didn’t seem to cross paths often as of late.