The weather turns, quickly and violently. She should be used to that by now, the sea and the islands making their own weather. It’s still disquieting. With the shift in pressure and stiff spring breeze forced through the building, Jael can smell him before anything else. Like himself, like his wife, like blood— wait. Blood? On her feet, leaving the chore at hand abandoned, she crosses to the doorway.
His words barely register over the rush of blood in her ears. Aching for the breaking heart in his chest, Jael moved to comfort him. She doesn’t know how, but it won’t stop her. Jael reaches out for Gilgamesh. Feeling responsible for causing it, but then, she’d be responsible for healing it too. More responsible than she understands. "I'm here," the words are breathed. She's here, for him. For whatever it was worth, she would try to help him pick up the pieces.
It’s then that she finds the source of the blood.
A grim, angry wound that should have been for a healer to deal with. Seemed to be a pattern between the two of them. “Let me take care of you.” Jael pressed into the unwounded side of his chest, if he’d let her. Modesty had gone for his chest… she can see it for what it is. She’d gone for his heart because he’d hurt hers. She's not innocent here. Jael can’t focus on that. Not while Gil chokes up in front of her. She’d take care of him. Anxious for both of them, given the extent of the wound and the likely rage that had caused it, Jael’s thoughts begin to race. No, the girl couldn't give them heed now. She has Gil to focus on.
As her keepers, Gilgamesh and Modesty may join any of Jael’s threads if they deem necessary.
Professor
