Caesura

[Tamara Wren]

It had been a longer stretch than usually, since she'd found the time to come back to Teta. At first it had been every few days. This time, nearly two weeks had passed. She had sent word, that she had duties keeping her busy- why had she done that? Worried that he'd worry? Why would he?

In truth, Tamara was more worried that he wouldn't have been, then if he had been. Though the idea that he might be tied her up in knots.

The whole thing.

Was ridiculous.

What was worse was that the day after she'd last come, she'd gone to [member="Irella Vizsla"] for help and advice. And had ended up with the grand idea to come the next time..... looking..... nice. With the other woman's help she was pretty sure she managed it. But the more time had stretched between visits, busy being Tamara Vizsla, Senachal of the Spirit of Fire.... the sillier it had all seemed. She'd almost abandoned the plan entirely.

And then....

There she was. Dressed up. Hair down and loose. Stepping into the front of the shop. She'd messaged ahead- something she'd never done- making sure he was free. He always had been- or if not, willing to set something aside to spend the time with her, or to finish up if something simply couldn't wait. But still, she had.

Of course, this was now also the first time that she'd stopped by that she found a small sign on the counter-

"Be back, fifteen minutes." She murmured. Not a note to *her*, just a sign he probably put up if he had to step out briefly.

Sighing, she looked around, then shifted over to one wall- one covered in books, dark eyes scanning, tugging one down absently to flip through while she waited.

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

It was more like ten.

She wouldn't hear him coming.

His steps silent as always, but by the time the scent washed over her Julian was already practically brushing against her. "Dem's be da nicest cloths I seen, cyattie, ya comin' from somewhah important or is da for me." His voice softer, almost hushed. Like Julian was asking for a secret of hers and prepared to lean deeper in to listen intently to it. In comparison Imani wasn't dressed that nice. But he never had been, to be fair.

Probably didn't have anything this nice.

Just the same rough patched clothes that looked like something he had sewn together himself.

Most likely had.

One hand brushing her side already, her hip and up. The more Tamara had come to visit.... the freer Julian had gotten when it came to touch and proximity. It was unclear if that was something strictly between them or if this is who he was.

Maybe a little of both.

 

[Tamara Wren]

She had only a heartbeat's warning before his voice washed over her, his breath warm on her ear. A thrill shivered through her chest, up into her throat, and eyes closed briefly as she breathed in deeply.

That was how it had gone, since she'd met him.

From the greyness to full colour. From cool to heat. She had spent six months after her death feeling nothing. This was like cold water against a parched throat. It was, ultimately, a huge part of the decision to take back that piece of her soul, when..... if.... Shadowman brought it back. She wanted to feel like this all the time.

And she was level headed enough to recognize that the solution was not to always be around this man.

That didn't mean she didn't want to, however.

Cheeks flushed when he asked his question. The clothes she'd gotten with Irella hadn't been expensive, or even that fancy. Normally, Tam dressed only a step above Julian. Sturdy, no-nonsense clothes that had probably seen better days. Patched because waste was not a casual thing. So even though they perhaps weren't anything special, it was still significantly different from how she normally came.

Part of her wanted to lie. Just for a minute. To play it casual. It certainly occurred to her.

That wasn't her however.

That said, the idea of admitting it was indeed, for him, was also the single most fraught thing she could possibly imagine in that moment.

She leaned back slightly, against his touch. Unlike the beginning where she had mostly frozen under it. But then, they'd come to know each other since then.

"I thought it might be nice," she mumbled, self conscious, not really answering but clearly weighing in on not 'coming from somewhere else'. "Do.... do you like it?"

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

"Do."

The lean back against him wasn't missed.

It had gotten easier for her across the weeks and caught moments. In truth this was as much for Julian as it had been for her. For years he had always had Shadowman by his side, not a moment of alone. Where it had annoyed him in the past and made him wish for that peace? Now he realized just how much he had grown to rely on the spirit. It was stupid. No matter the time that had passed, Shadowman was dangerous.

That didn't change a thing.

Tamara's presence had brushed away at that raw emptiness. Not a perfect fit, but her genuine nature was appreciated. She didn't want anything. Besides his presence. "Mmm. Idea..." A wink as he took a step back and turned towards the backroom.

"Ya stick around 'ere for a bit, no peeking! An' I will call to ya when I am ready, ya?"

Once Julian got the affirmative sound he was gone again. Leaving only scent and spirit behind. It took some time before his voice echoed through the corridors. Maybe another twenty minutes. But he guided her alright. Up the stairs and up. Through the corridor, until finally... Tam would reach a balcony. It was furnished now. Candles lit and Jul had even put on something else. It was faded, ragged at the seams, but once upon a time it must have been a grand suit.

"Whatcha think, cyattie, eh? Two of us."

Something... skittered away into the shadows. It poked out, button eye looking up at Tamara. A sack doll. Smol one. It hid again.

"Well.... ya, me an' mah little helper friends."

 

[Tamara Wren]

Tamara blinked.

"Oh. Um. Okay yeah sure." A little confused but to be fair, that wasn't uncommon when dealing with Julian. He wasn't like anyone she'd ever known and more often than not he genuinely baffled her.

No peeking?

At what???

She idled around the front room, peering around in more detail than she had on any previous visit. Leaning over to peek into the glass case. Fingertips tracing over the spines of the books. Picking things up carefully, turning them over and around and putting them back. Sniffing (a little suspiciously) at the contents of a tiny set of drawers, before closing it again with a sneeze and a shake of her head.

And she mulled. And wondered.

He'd liked the way she looked and that pleased her more than she cared to admit. Did he like that she'd come that way just because? She didn't know or if it even mattered. Well, it DID but it SHOULDN'T.

Ugh.

What was he doing?

It felt like a lot longer than twenty minutes before she heard him call her name. She followed his instructions- she hadn't been in that part of the building before, and she looked around without trying to be nosy. When she stepped out onto the balcony, she blinked in surprise, then offered him a self conscious smile.

"I don't know what I was expecting, but this is nicer than whatever it was," she said, brushing stray hair out of her face absently- usually it was braided and up out of the way, and this was why. "You look really nice," she added, immediately kicking herself because wow did that sound dumb.

Part of her was pleased. Part of her was surprised. It was almost like.... a date. Did he mean it like that?

WHY DID IT MATTER IF HE DID

(Honey you know why)

She paused, then crouched down, a little awkwardly in the dress. Peered into the shadows where the little thing had vanished. She'd tried a couple of times to get them to trust her. Once she'd sat completely still on the floor for a half hour while Julian was finishing something, waiting. One had almost gotten close enough to touch- then Julian had called out and she'd looked up too quickly, sending it scampering back into a corner.

"Thank you," she offered to it, standing back up again and stepping over to the table and Julian. "This is really nice."

There was the nice again. Try harder Tam.

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

"Be an old suit. Different life. Don't.. suit me now, but tanks, cyattie."

She had always been kind like that, no? He stepped on in. Brushing her hair away a bit, before she could slip away to thank his little helpers. "Da hair is nice, Tam, *like* it... yah yah." Then he stepped on back and flopped onto a couple of the pillows.

Watching the exchange between her and his helpers with clear amusement.

"They like ya." The sceptical look she send him made him laugh. "True. They do. Anyone else and they never show, ya? Nervous... mmhm, scared an' self-conscious they *be*."

Now who else did that remind them of?

"But they show to you, cus they want ya to know them."

For Julian it was obvious as day, because he had made them in the first place. They had always been helpful little critters. Cute in some ways too. Absolutely terrifying when the situation demanded it. Some intruders had never been the same.

"Ya got da pretty dress, pretty for *me*, ya deserved something nice too." He didn't say it. But it was there... bargain done, bargain made.

Fair exchange.

She had even come all the way here to show it. The least he could do was make it worth it. "Chai?" A gesture toward the steaming tea set.

 

[Tamara Wren]

Julian wasn't shy with compliments. No matter what she looked like when she came, he always found something he liked about it, about her. It made her flush, but pleased time and time again by it. She had never doubted that he found her attractive, because he'd never hesitated to say so, in one way or another.

She hadn't gotten used to it yet, not enough to take it for granted anyway, and how clear it was that he liked that she'd deliberately dressed up for him pleased her more than she could say.

"Well, I like them too," she said, settling down onto another cushion. Not right next to him but within reach. Tam always started with space, simple subconscious habit.

She smiled a little bit, glancing over at him. Catching the compliment with a flush but also the 'bargain' implication. He was always like that. Always trade for trade. A rare thing, but she chuckled shaking her head.

"Wasn't done for something, Julian," she said softly. "Isn't always a bargain. Sometimes... it's just because."

She wouldn't call getting dressed up for him a 'gift'. That didn't make sense to her. But she hadn't done it in hopes of something in return.

"Yes please," she said, in response to the tea.

It took a moment, a pause as she watched him pour. And then.

"I. Ah. Missed you.... the last two weeks. I'm glad you were here." Her cheeks flushed darker.

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

"Give 'em time, cyattie, they chill in ya lap in no time."

It was the main... difference between them.

Difference in perspective anyway.

The idea that you could do something, anything, without anything in return. It was the different experiences that had formed their characters. The way their life had formed. This was the main reason why Julian never truly pushed in these discussion. This was simply something that... was, yah? What was the point of trying to push against it. To hammer his point home. It didn't matter, did it now? As long as Tamara didn't try to change his perspective for himself?

S'all that mattered.

He took a sip. Their eyes met during it, when she managed to tell him she had missed him. That same sip saved him just a bit.

Dark inscrutable eyes measuring her, before putting down the cup.

"Miss ya too, Tam, been lonely without ya an' Shadowman." Julian was a man of people. He enjoyed them. Talking, watching, interacting. It just clicked for him. "What kept ya two weeks from me, eh?"

 

[Tamara Wren]

She hadn't sipped, cup just up to her lips and pausing. Waiting for his reaction, his response. It wasn't a casual admission for her. It had taken some deliberation.

A little bit of nerve, if she was honest.

And when he paused, looking her up and down, she almost wished she could take it back. An ache in her chest from- from what?

But then she smiled over the rim of the cup.

She hadn't said it expecting him to say it back. But she had HOPED he would. And there was a certain relief in her eyes, above that smile, when he did. If he hadn't.... she would have wanted to know. But it wasn't what she would have wanted. This flushed her chest and face with warmth, and she looked down into the cup, finally taking a sip to try to cover that.

"My dad needed me, clan business," she said a moment later. She hadn't talked about him a lot, but just enough that it was obvious how close they were. How much he meant to her. Tam wore her heart on her sleeve- quietly perhaps, but there if someone was looking. Julian was the sort to pay attention.

"A lot of things going on..." She trailed off, frowning a bit into the tea cup. "I told him.... what we're going to do. I don't know if he approved, but he understood." She looked up, offering a bit of a wry grin. She hadn't needed her father's permission. But this was easier.

She had NOT told him about Julian. Not yet. She didn't know what this was... if it was anything at all.

"What have you been up to then? To fill the time," she teased slightly.

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

Any sane man who knew Tamara's death would probably not have closed the distance towards proximity.

Risky business that.

Who knew what the Butcher of Illum would do, eh? But Julian....... Jul had lost his fears back in the Netherworld. Was there really anything to fear, after surviving in hell for so many years? Julian didn't believe so, unless fear of boredom counted in this situation. Probably not. "Da stormfather understand?" An inclination of the head followed. "Dun expected da, but is good." Maybe Shadowman's bias had sorta projected over to him here. From the stories the Mandalorian Alor was resolved.

Firm.

Brittle like iron, he'd sooner break than bend.

Wave of the hand. "No'much. Business be business, ya? Did sum studies, painted a touch, warded off some be fools." Lip frown as he wondered about the roots fallen. He reckoned that the problems were over, but he still felt naked without Shadow.

No more a second pair of eyes in his back.

 

[Tamara Wren]

Sitting cross legging on the cushion beside him, she listened. Normally she preferred that to talking anyway, and when it came to Julian she could listen to him talk for hours. Tam leaned a little, rocking, the side of her forehead resting for a moment on the very edge of his shoulder before tipping back to sitting up right.

Her fingers shifted over the smooth ceramic of the mug. Mouth opened, about to ask about the last part-

Of course, the last part instead made itself known.

There wasn't any warning. Maybe if they had been paying less attention to each other and more to the building around them, they might have noticed. Instead they were alerted only when the door slammed open, kicked in by a heavy booted foot. Tam's side was to the door, and she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. The rise of a gun.

She didn't think, just reacted. Grabbing the low table and upending it, ceramics sent clattering as she shifted her weight and yanked Julian down right before the deep throated bark of the gun's report.

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

Shadow would have warned him about it.

Eh.

Shadow would have eaten the intruders and maybe burped up some bones for Juls to find later. Most likely on his couch as a present or something. It was kinda gross, honestly. But all of that was preferable to suddenly having a bunch of goons RUSH IN and start shooting. Julian wasn't a soldier. Not a warrior. He had survived years in the Netherworld not because he was some fierce killer. Naw. Had been cunning. There was nothing cunning about being dragged down pulled behind da gorram low table.

"Ya know." He murmured as they were being shot at from a distance. "I do hope they dun touch more of mah plants."'

Internally though.

Julian was kinda freaking out.

No Shadow at his heels, no proximity to quickly end the situation before it happened, no nothing. How was he to protect Tamara... if he could barely protect himself? "Lis, we make distraction, then jump over da- Tam?" He glanced to his side. Tamara was gone. BLINK BLINK. "TAM?!"

 

[Tamara Wren]

So far, Julian had seen just one side of Tamara. The side that, if someone had asked her to explain herself, is how she would have. He'd seen the artist, the insecurity of losing that, the quiet and the thoughtful. But there was another part of Tam. Just as integral. Just as clear.

Assess.

Act.

Tamara was, at her core, Mandalorian. Trained almost as soon as she'd learned to walk. Blades within reach, taught to respect them the hard way. Can't learn to fear the fire if you're never burned, her father had said. It had taken only one time, reaching out a chubby, errant hand. Tam had learned.

The artist was the life she'd chosen. But this was the life she'd lived since before a choice had been offered, and the one she had settled in to more firmly in the half year since her death. Two sides of the coin.

Even dressed up, Tam had not come unarmed. A pair of knives in her boots had been all she had thought necessary after so many times making this trip. Even with a trio of men wielding guns, she didn't particularly regret that choice.

It was enough.

Reaching out, Tam picked up the tea pot and threw it in the opposite direction then darted the other way even as Julian was starting to speak. Don't talk about a plan, do it. They didn't track the tea pot for more than a fraction of a second, but that was all she needed to close the distance.

It was stupid, she thought in a detached sort of way. Coming into an enclosed space like this was the best way to give up any serious advantage your guns gave you. Especially when it was one against three. Oh, it seemed like they should have the advantage. But that only worked if intimidation was their goal-

Or if they had killed them in the first volley.

It didn't occur to Tamara that, to most people, the set up would have indeed seemed like an advantage to the men who had come bursting in. But then, most people hadn't been trained by [member="Ronan Vizsla"].

She moved like lightening. Her armor, which her father would have chided her for not wearing here, had been designed to allow her to take advantage of her speed. Without it? She flowed like water. She grabbed the closest one, the first through the door, by the wrist, yanking the gun and fist that held it past her, angled down into the floor. Letting that momentum and surprise bring him down. She fed him her knee, knocking out teeth and shattering his nose. Letting go, he continued on that trajectory to the floor and she used the motion to draw one of the knives in a single, fluid motion.

The second pair, so close to each other as they had tried to get through the door at the same time, guns coming to bear.

Professional thugs. Amateur hit men. Too slow.

One had time to pull the trigger, but Tam was already inside his reach and the shot went wide. She pivoted on her back foot, twisting his wrist up and under her arm as she set her back against his chest. Hand shifting, she aimed and fired point blank into the other's face before she shifted, hips popping as her knees bent. Fingers twisted, the gun dropping from his hand into hers. Throwing the man behind her over her shoulder. As he sailed, she reached up, knife slicing, almost casually, across his throat. He landed with a heavy thud. Too still. Without hesitation, she shifted, putting one bullet in his head, then another in the others. Both men were probably dead before that but Tamara didn't take chances.

Blood in her hair and on her face, she looked over at the table, where Julian was peering out. Gesturing with the gun at the first man who had come through the door.

"Do you want one alive?"

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

It was over before it begun.

Most of it Julian was crouched behind the table with one eye around the corner. She was like the wind, like the ur-spirits of Dathomir, she was death... and it was a side that Imani had never seen before. It was a side that he loved to see. The passion behind every stroke. The heat, the fire and the sharp edges. This was art in its most vital forms. He watched and by the time it was done? Jul had crawled from around the table. Standing up and making a show of dusting himself off.

His suit was ruined.

Her dress was more.

The question made him blink. He looked from the gun to the other shape, not yet filled with a bullet. In truth Julian hadn't even realized he wasn't dead yet. "Oh." Imani took his time here. Walking over and around the two corpses and studying the third thug.

An emerald light appeared in his hand. Slick, it dripped light to the ground, before it energized in a jagged knife. An expert look (Tamara apparently) would see this wasn't a combat blade. It was a blade of ceremony... and a blade of ritual. "Dis moment realize, Tam." He murmured as he pondered. "I got comfortable, eh? Shadowman's eye kept watch an' I grew soft 'ere." Brow furrowed there, before sighing. "Naw, but I be doing it. Dis life can have worth."

"For me."

Glance to the side, one hand touching her shoulder softly.

"Ya knee be hurt. I fix in a moment, yes? Ya wanted to study mah arts... jus' dun want commit. Is okay. I show ya now what it means to be Witch, yah.... yah yah."

 

[Tamara Wren]

In truth? Tam had felt nothing while she had done it. The passion he saw there was imagined. There was skill, a life time of muscle memory, and perhaps that looked, to an outsider, like something closer to fire.

She watched as the knife materialized, pursing her lips slightly but not saying anything. That was not the way of her own training and people, but they had come after him and he had the right to that life. Oh, she didn't care if he killed him. That part was simple good sense. But it was simply a need, like breathing or a sip of water. A thing that must be done, rather than something to be taken advantage of for eldritch purpose. But she nodded, because she recognized his claim to that life.

When he pointed out her injury, she looked down. Not in surprise. She had felt it when it had happened. She was not the sort to be slowed down by something as minor as that, but once it was over she was sensible enough to make certain it was seen to. No argument resembling 'oh it's fine' or 'it's just a scratch'. Human mouths were filthy places. It was the first time she'd been wounded like that, usually she wore armor and all that would have done was shattered his teeth. But she knew just how important sterilizing even the smallest of cuts from something's mouth was.

Despite her reservations about using death the way he clearly meant to, she watched as he moved, taking in what he meant when he called himself a Witch.

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

"Some think da witch means ya gotta murmur chit. Incantations." He waggled his fingers absently as he approached and looked down on the man. "Fingah gestures. Not so, naw. S'all about purpose. Thought. Is about life and death. Sacrifice."

Eyes met with hers.

"Bargain. Yes?"

Their gaze held for a little more, before he crouched down next to the body. Whimpering. In pain, but also out there. He didn't know what was happening and perhaps that was for the best. Julian wasn't inherently a cruel person. He wasn't here to try and draw out the pain. Didn't draw pleasure from what he did. It was a neutral expression on his face. Something that Julian knew needed to be done. Not something that he was enjoying or liking to do.

"Protection dun come free... no." Hand raised up with that jagged knife. "Life for protection." As Julian had mentioned before, there wasn't some kind of elaborate ritual. No incantation. Just from one moment to the next he lunged the tip of the knife down.

Sinking it deep into chest between ribs.

Then a twist.

The life immediately was snatched up as the thug gasped his last gurgle. The blade lit up red for one moment, before returning to emerald.

"He serve da shop now." A nod, before rising up and letting the blade disappear. "Now ya knee, eh?"

Already shaken off whatever that had been.

 

[Tamara Wren]

It was disturbing but not upsetting. It felt in its way the opposite of what had been done to her. Something related, the singing tensions through the Force tightening like a noose no one could see.

Even untrained, she could feel it, the workings. The bargain made.

She didn't understand the how or why, just that it was.

Perhaps what Julian did, what he was.... perhaps it was not for her.

Tam watched impassively, a small wrinkle in her brow. She kept her distance from the whole thing, but didn't look away. Didn't flinch when the knife found its home. That part was easy. That part was normal. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she mulled quietly. Absorbing.

A nod when he was done.

"Going to need to do something with the bodies, but after?"

Honestly, the teeth wound on her knee throbbed. Tamara was tough but she wasn't immune to pain.

"Unless that one stays," she said, confusion crossing her face for a moment. "Was it the spirit or the body you bound to the shop?" She was fairly certain it was the spirit, knowing what little she did, but wasn't sure. Hopefully he didn't need to keep the body around.

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

The lack of reaction from Tamara was heartening.

He had assumed as much.

Internally some of the calculus when it came to Tam had shifted. She was far more deadly than he was, in the conventional sense anyway. But perhaps that shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did. She was Ronan's daughter after all. Would it have made sense for him not train her? To forge her into a killer? No, probably not. How he hadn't seen it though... disturbing. It only underlined for him that he had grown used to Shadowman's eyes and thoughts.

Lacked his own.

"Is good." Then a blink and a laugh right after that. "No, no, no. Body goes... spirit stays, yah. He protect now. Place he wanted to burn? Irony. Is good, mhm?"

It was honestly quite amusing to him.

The place that he had wanted to destroy, the people in it to kill? The spirit would now have to protect and that couldn't be a nice feeling. He was already gauging and measuring, before nodding. "Can drop 'em behind da shop for now and then see, yah?" Unless she had a difference in opinion that is exactly what they would do. Body by body, discarding them behind the shop, before eventually ending up in his backroom again. He settled her down on the couch.

Starting to rummage for herbs.

"Be a sad. I was enjoying us, yah? Dem intruders ruin."

Sad shake of the head followed.

 

[Tamara Wren]

"I think it's better to just end someone who wants to end you, but, it's your shop." She said with a shrug.

That Mandalorian pragmatism coming through there.

She hadn't voice many opinions like that in the past. But that was mostly because the things Julian knew and were familiar with, the things they talked about together, were things she wasn't as familiar with. This? This was the world she inhabited. This was easy and familiar. She got no joy from it, but there was satisfaction in any fight that ended with you alive and your enemy no longer a threat. Dead? If they needed to be, always.

She also wasn't so sure about just leaving the bodies out back. But again, his shop. Seemed messy. But then this was his planet not hers and he knew better how things were done here.

By the time they came back in and she sat down, the blood had started to dry on her skin and clothes, and she made a vague sort of face about that. But she also knew she needed him to treat her knee before she got cleaned up. If she'd been alone, or they'd been in a battle situation, it could have waited.

Or she would have shoved a lit brand into each bloody divot. Would have depended.

But better not to when it came to bite wounds. He hadn't meant to of course, but that didn't change the calculus. Bite wounds were filthy and should be addressed as soon as possible.

Tamara grimaced, looking down at the dress. She didn't think [member="Irella Vizsla"] was going to be angry, but Tam herself was disappointed.

"It was nice yeah," she said softly as he put things together. Carefully, she rolled up the hem of the dress. A jagged half moon of indents, the blood already starting to crust around the edges. Tam healed fast. In a few days it would be nothing more than tiny silver scars.

"That.... happen a lot? Well no, I guess not," she said thoughtfully. If it did, it would have taken him less by surprise.

[member="Julian Imani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Tamara Wren"]

A shrug followed.

"Maybe. Dunno. Enjoy irony more, honestly, I value mah life and chit more than I do 'em." Hence why it wasn't just enough to kill them in his book. It wasn't a simple calculus of life for life. You tried to take mine, so I will take yours instead. How was that a fair bargain? His life was worth more. That meant a threat to it had to be repaid with more than just their life. Service? See, that was something that Imani could work with. Maybe he'd release the spirit after a few years.

Or decades.

Who knew?

As he crouched down next to her to check her knee? He looked up, edge of the finger brushing her chin up. "'Ey, still a nice. Ya look gorgeous." Julian started working on her knee. Letting that question mull a bit, before he answered it. "Dunno," Honest answer there. "Shadowman took care of it in da past. Dis new for me. An' dis gon' sting."

He applied some liquid to her wound.