Tirran stood by the entrance, alongside — Estingar? Probably. Yu had given up distinguishing between the two ulbatans. Might as well default to Estingar from now on.
“A witch is coming,” Yu panted. His head spun. The cold hit like a slap, and he had not eaten all day.
“Yes,” said Tirran.
Estingar – probably, still – tilted his head, glancing down. “Well, we were going to wait for the captain before asking about your abilities, but since you’re already here, how do you know?”
Yu pressed his arms tight against his chest, trying to suppress his shivers. “I hear her.”
“What? How?” asked Estingar.
“Interesting,” said Tirran.
When Estingar asked, Yu opened his beak to explain, but as Tirran spoke, he froze. Something in the omira’s voice made him falter. That deliberate restraint. That careful, measured weight. The control. The attempt not to be the one thing right here, right next to him, that was something so much worse than a witch.
It made Yu swallow his words. I made him hesitate to reveal just how well he could listen in.
“Sorry,” he muttered instead. “It’s too cold. I need to get dressed.”
He turned on his heel and rushed for the door.
“Yu.” Tirran’s voice pinned him at the threshold.
“Yes?”
“Have Bubs bandage you.”
“Uhm, yes.”
“I can do it,” Estingar offered. “We’ll go upstairs. He’s probably getting the room ready.”
“Good,” said Tirran. “Then come back.”
“Can’t leave all the fun to you, can we?” Estingar grinned,all needles, as he strode inside.
Yu followed, all the way to the bathroom.
Estingar barely glanced at the floor. “Well, that’s an impressive mess.”
He did not dwell on it, though, but stepped right into the sodden heaps of ripped feathers and torn cloth, through all the water Yu had spilled. He went straight for the salve and bandages.
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