The Last Curse
21% Delirious
After distributing his makeshift perfume to the party, Cayde leaned back, eagerly awaiting their feedback. Fortunately for him, it came, delivered in the form of a scalding tirade by Clarice herself. He heard Scylla join in, too, though her words were far more sorrowful than the latter. Regardless, both had moved on before he could get a word in edgewise, leaving him utterly bewildered, ashamed, and reminiscent of his rage-fueled rant not too long ago. He sighed regretfully at the memory; there was still nothing he could say to amend his words, same as there was nothing he could say to console either ally. However, there was one thing he could do, Cayde knew: give them their space and plenty of it. It'd calmed him down - he hoped it'd work for them, too. But, in the meantime, there was work to do.
As the last torch was stabbed into the ground, work was done. Cayde sauntered back to the group, dusting his hands and wearing a satisfied grin formed by whatever shred of optimism he had left. Sure, there was the Banshee, the impostor, the hag, the group dynamic, Kate's apparent resurrection, this swamp, his sanity, and a nearly infinite list of things for him to worry about - but he was getting closer to vanquishing this Banshee and, by extension, closer to returning home. That deserved a smile, at the very least. As for his almost-naked apprentice ahead of him, he decided that deserved a lung-rupturing gasp.
"OH MY GOD! KESH!"
Cayde's jacket was already in his hands, rushing forwards to shield Kesh from the gaze of his allies. And especially the eye of the shamanistic woman who'd seemingly appeared out of nowhere, rebuking them for 'tampering' with her village's protection. That made him stop his advance, equal parts skepticism, and confusion filling his head. Who was this woman? Cayde wondered, most importantly, why did she think they were attempting to sabotage the village? They were helping, weren't they? He'd saved the questions for later. Right now, Kesh's modesty mattered the most.
Eventually, Cayde caught up, throwing his jacket over Kesh to cover her up. He still didn't know what pushed her to do that, but in her hands, he saw why she did it - Baharius did too, and he was just as nurturing as Cayde always thought him to be. The saurial hadn't made him lose his faith in him for a second - that was beyond admirable. "Thank you," Cayde muttered to him, giving an appreciative and curiously moved his gaze over the wood/cloth contraption. He'd seen Kesh tinker before but never had he ever watched her create what seemed to be a bushcraft crossbow. "So that's what you were doing with your clothes..?" He furrowed his brows for a moment but gave an aloof shrug shortly after. After this was all over, he'd have to take her to a seamer, but she still crafted something other than drugs - that in itself was an achievement, "Crafty. So, how does it work?"
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