Lyra stared into her lap, carefully nodding her head as she listened to Namir's response. On the surface she feared she might look too disinterested and minimally reactive, but on the inside she felt beyond grateful for the assassin's patience and understanding; she simply didn't know how else to express it. She tried to commit her words to memory -- for the good of womankind -- repeating them over and over again in her head like a mantra, so that she would have them to remember for when the time came that she needed it most. If anything, it helped her calm down a little better for the time being, too.

While Namir lifted the cooked rabbit from its makeshift spit and worked at carving the meat off the creature's bones, Lyra tried her best to continue settling her nerves. The freshly cooked meat smelled amazing even without any seasoning, her mouth already starting to water just looking at it. It was a bit disorienting how hungry she felt; normally whenever her anxiety was acting up, she often found she couldn't eat no matter how badly she wanted to. Now, though, it seemed to be the opposite. She took every bit of what Namir offered, taking a single last deep breath to calm her nerves before she settled into the hot lunch.

"It's good," the doctor said as she chewed, offering a small smile. She worked at each bite for a long while, the tenderness of the meat a sure luxury after the last couple days of eating only stale jerky and nothing else. Even if the rabbit was a bit gamier and chewier than she normally liked, she wasn't one to complain. Besides, the meals back at the commune had been much the same -- cheap, basic, purely nutritional and nothing else. At least this had flavor, even if it was a more intense one.

The two ate in relative silence for the next few minutes. It wasn't long before the meal started to dwindle down, the creature being so small in the first place. Lyra was picking at the last bit of meat gone mostly cold in her hands, clearly zoning out by the dazed look on her face, whenever she spoke next. The same thought kept swirling around and around inside her head, until at long last she felt she could no longer hold it in and finally spit it out.

"So, what happens if this Shadowfaux guy says I'm not okay for some reason?" She peered up through her eyelashes into the other woman's face, a look of pure vulnerability etched into the sharp lines of her face. Lyra could feel herself beginning to spiral again, but she wasn't sure how to stop it. "What if-- what if he doesn't think my truths are enough to forgive me for everything else I've already done? What if maybe I'm just too damaged and there's no coming back?"

"I have read of it." he said, the heavy inferring there that he had not seen it in humans difficult to miss. Even in the army, it just seemed like humans were doing their duty as Vol was, though he still failed to understand where such drive came from. Rikerg got up, stretching again, as even that activity had been restricted by the commander, and it had left him feeling stiff.

As long as he had something decently warm to lie upon, Rikerg needed no other bedding, and watched as the other set up his own to keep warm. Still, humans normally remained in buildings or in tents as they slept when there was still snow, and Vol was far too skinny to be out in the cold, even with blankets and a fire in front of him. So Rikerg moved around the fire pit, resuming his previous reclined pose but this time behind Vol, practically on his bedroll with him.

"Have you lost anyone to the war?"

Rikerg tried to look over his shoulder to see how he was going to make a fire, but he couldn't see as the other was too close to the ground. He went to the opposite of the pit, lying down on his side to watch him work the flint and steel. He had learned how to use his claws to start fires, however he lacked the dexterity to make fire the way that Vol was. He rarely made fires, as he didn't cook his meat, reading was too difficult by candlelight, and he was rarely ever cold enough to require a fire for warmth. He shook his head when the clothing was removed from it, as it was still a bit damp where they had dripped onto it.

He was going to offer to hunt for the man, but he took out a strange food item, which was only identifiable as meat by its smell. It looked dreadful and unpleasant to chew, Rikerg didn't even want to imagine what the flavor was like. He didn't speak as he was unsure what to talk about, there were hundreds of things to speak of, but he couldn't decided on a single one. Instead, he just stared at the other through the fire, stretching occasionally to revel in his newfound freedom.

When he gave his condolences, Rikerg appeared confused, sitting up and looking at him hard, "Why are you apologizing? You had nothing to do with it." He didn't understand that he could feel sorry for him despite not being even indirectly responsible. "She warned me of their coming, but it made no difference. If I had known, I would have said farewell to her."

Vol blinked, confused. "I said, do you want to wait in the car... are you okay?"

Was he having another memory try and push through? Another of his visions that had sent him toppling to the bathroom floor earlier? What if this was Beastblood again, trying to break through the gates and return to his life of crime and chaos? Deep breath, Lucifer.

"Hey," he said, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder with the hopes it would reground John. "Are you okay?"

Evanna nudged him again for his teasing. "I do enjoy it, but I don't enjoy that you embarrass me so much when you do it sometimes." Which was her own problem, not so much something Isao was doing on purpose, so it was all good. She shook her head and shrugged, letting out a huff of sound before grinning again at the return of his teasing. That was...well she didn't have words for him for a long moment before she tried again; this time turning things around back on him to see how he liked it. "Is that so bad a thing to want; to be close to another person for a while? Especially when you seem to enjoy yourself as well as I do." Her tone was quiet and curious, but didn't give away rather or not she was being serious in the query.

She let the moment shift as he gave a fake sounding gasp of surprise and she couldn't help the snort of laughter that left her. She held her hands up in an 'I surrender' pose because she had promised. She enjoyed his laughter as he turned around to see better, though he seemed to notice her tension and reached out to touch her shoulders. He told her she didn't have to, even as he reached forwards so his arms touched hers. She took in the warmth of him for a long moment before taking another deep breath for strength and giving him a small half smile. "No, it's alright. It's just a thing that happens whenever I go to the doctor. Like I get embarrassed of my own body or something. It goes away, but sometimes I can't help it. I don't mind if you see."

She leaned forward suddenly until her head could touch his shoulder, eyes falling shut as she took a moment to reassure herself with his much stronger presence. She took in the warmth and strength of him for a quiet moment before sitting back up and turning to give him the line of her back before she thought better of it. She tugged at her long sleeves for a tense moment before shrugging and pulling the turtle neck she wore off, not minding since she had a sports bra on and it wasn't really considered indecent in her books. She let him see tanned skin and there on her back was an intricately woven Celtic cross with woven wings spreading out from it to across her shoulder blades and onto the tops of both delicate shoulders.

She knew that also visible because it had been done after the tattoo had been put there were the crisscrossing pale white scars like whips across her back. Some had the tattoo redone over them - her small act of defiance against her father - but some were newer and not touching the tattoo. She hadn't felt like putting on the concealer today to hide them; which is how he'd never seen them when she'd worn sleeveless clothing. She also new the still healing gunshot wound on her left shoulder was visible. It was that one she'd been to the doctor for as it was still only weeks in healing. That one had been because she'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time and it was an accident but her father said she'd deserved it for the lesson it taught her in watching her step more carefully.

Normally she felt that her scars told the tale of her life and everything she'd survived and triumphed over, but today they were just a reminder of how very alone she really was in the world. Some of the marks were made by whips, some by knives, and one was even from one of her father's dogs that he'd suck on her when she was still very young and hadn't known any better. And written into every line of the wings were her own words; added to remind herself to be brave. The words read 'Remember that no matter the darkness there is always light. Where there is hope evil will never triumph. There is always a way out so long as you don't give up. You are not alone. You are not worthless. You are strong. You exist. You are you, and you are perfect the way you are. Don't let him win.'

They were words she'd spoken to herself for years; words she lived by and she looked at them in the mirror when she forgot herself. It helped, but lately being alone had become so much harder. Now she'd let Isao see and she suddenly refused to be ashamed. She straightened her spine and tilted her shoulders back proudly, letting him look and not allowing herself to flinch no matter that his reaction was very important to her. She would keep this day lighthearted if it killed her. But for now, she had to wait and see how he reacted. She was only so strong, after all.