skill: healer [bwp]

Whatever life he thought that they were returning to, it had been too vicious and too painful already. Talamh might not have been perfect, there might have been danger there too - but they had only found more pain since returning to Mythris.

There was a feeling, an unease as Foxglove was trying to juggle his focus between Fable, Aisling, and Epona. He hadn't seen Shiloh since they'd gotten back and he was okay with that. He understood that. The separation had been an issue the entire time - why had Fox managed to follow while Tiberii had not. He speculated, of course, on the whys and whats of the universe. That was all beyond his pay grade, but he thought it was because of Dawnbreak. Tiberii had friends and family; she had ties. Foxglove only had them.

It was the central thought of how much he would give to keep them safe that made him hide the truth. He did not want to make Fable more stressed; he did not want to add to her burdens.

What Fox was determined to do was hide any evidence that he was sick himself. Every pain that he felt as the parasite he had been exposed to in the previous search he suppressed. He ignored the pain; he tried to stifle the twinges and gasps. It was harder in his sleep, where he had no control. And as the dream shattered his reality again he felt compelled to do something. The brutal truth of it drove him to action. Mythris had to be protected. It had to be healed.

Foxglove took a heavy breath before he stepped through the door.

---

What he found before him was something that left him awestruck. If not for the threat to their world, it might have been fascinating to see. Instead, he watched as the Tree was attacked - they came endlessly, one after the other after the other. He knew he had to get close to the tree, that he had to protect it, and was certain that the plant that was the key to it all. Why else would they do this? Foxglove ran to the tree, and he could feel the heaviness in the air from the sorrow and grief. His eyes watered, he felt the grief as if it was his own, and as he did his best to protect the Tree, every time he engaged one of the wraiths, he cried out as if their pain was his own pain.

Maybe that was part of it - being willing to take on that pain from them. Being willing to carry that. Every wave felt more intense until Foxglove was sobbing himself. No matter what, though, he could not back down. He would do this for the world; he would do this for his girls, for the family that had become his own, he would do this for the only woman that he had ever loved. No matter what, until there was no more breath in his lungs, until there was nothing left of him, Foxglove Kali would give all that he had.

---