Quiet Reflection

The Warlord leaned against his sister, letting the warmth of the alcohol heat him from the inside-out. She was right, it did relax him, loosen him a little from his worries. Took the edge off of his inhibitions, too.

She asked something of him then that had him blinking, and looking at her in surprise. She had mentioned travelling to find a healer, but he hadn’t thought much about the leaving part. “I…” he said softly, pausing, and frowning. She spoke of who could tend to the injured, and indeed he relied very heavily on Io - mostly to see to him. He supposed he would go to Deathbelle for personal injuries, and Mal and Odet could see to the pack. They would make do on that front. “It would be strange, not being able to knock on your door anytime I need a chat.” He admitted.

Her calming presence often kept him sane. He didn’t like the thought of her going far. “Will you have any winged companions between the two of you? I need the ability for you to contact me in the case of an emergency. Hell hath no fury, I’ll tear apart anybody that bothers you” he whispered fevertly. Perhaps letting the possessive devil out a little more than he had in awhile. He locked in away a lot now, it often rubbed Zee the wrong way, but it was still there. Always there. Io was his. Always.