to DYE for (pun intended)

Keahi seemed... alright, actually. Dread wondered if she was one of the wolves that he'd be sent on patrol with. Maybe she'd be more fun than Hazel, who seemed to be all business lately. Did Halo ever patrol? That would be a sight, actually. The little healer, what would she do if she came upon a predator? Worse than a predator, an intruder? Dread heard that she'd been in a raid once, and even won a fight during it, but he certainly couldn't picture it. So little and mild mannered, and such an odd concept within the Armada. Still, a pack of warriors needed a healer, and he wouldn't argue with the Warlord's decision that she was a damn good one. It was still hard to picture, the way she was going on about plants and dyes. There was something nice about the background noise as he chopped away at the beets.

The occasional elbow from the red woman keeps Dread at least a little more grounded. How was he supposed to focus when there was that weird glowy girl that haunted his daydreams like this? Shit, better to not lose a toe over this one. He probably needed most of those. Dread perked up when he heard last step. They were winding down. Wrinkling his nose a bit as he squished down the beets and Halo marked the fill line in his pail, and then poured it into the waiting pot. Two parts water, one part beets. Two trips to the water bucket, where Halo helped him ladle the right portion into the pail. From the pail to the pot, and back again. Huh, that was really all there was to this? And people would pay for it?

But the idea that Halo would spend all day keeping an eye on it-- right, that was probably why they'd pay for it like they did. "Do you need anything else?" His question to Halo was an earnest one. She'd asked for their help, he may as well see this project through to the very end. That, and the busier he stayed, the less time he'd have to think and brood and carry on. That was probably for the best.

"Dread Fatalis"