[If Everett is going to be hideously conscious and hideously anxious with someone, his best choice would be Myr. The two seem to have a stabilizing effect upon one another that Everett's in desperate need of about now.
He scrambled quickly from the carriage as it pulls up. Luckily, he's just in time to spot Myr's antler's bouncing along through their shared garden. Prance is too whimsical a word, but Everett feels like his legs practically carry him overtop the hedges to meet his bonded as immediately as possible.]
Darling, Myr, it's so good to see you! How do you feel?
[Not only Myr's ears but his entire demeanor lifts as he hears Everett's voice; he straightens his shoulders and raises his head as the other Faun all-but-bounds over to meet him.]
Crookytail, [he calls to his wormipede, who obligingly lifts up several segments to take the basket he's carrying. All the better for him to reach out for Everett and grab his much-taller Bonded in a tight embrace.]
Better now that you're home, dearheart. [He's still exhausted and worried, through their Bond, but he's not lying about being better: It's one big worry put to rest to have Everett back with him.]
You're home to stay, I hope? They won't need to see you back? [Hopefully those words don't come off sounding a little desperate. Too many of Myr's people (his herd) are where he can't reach them right now.]
[That tight embrace is met with a bearish hug, Everett ever mindful to not tangle antlers and horns as he falls in close. He nuzzles his face to Myr's hair, kissing him with a brief lift from his hooves before he's set back down. Not let go, however, Everett's far from done with holding him close and protective and grateful they are reunited.]
That I am, such an infection left me quick enough. What about you, will you need to return?
[And Myr, by turns--despite the squeak of mock-protest as he's lifted off his hooves (and oh, how good it is to feel well enough to joke like that, even if only a little)--is not ready to be let go. Crookytail ambles on ahead with the basket, knowing her way to the kitchen and the rats who can unpack it where she can't, but Myr holds them up a little longer to snuggle into Everett's side in a way that makes walking difficult.]
No, thank the Maker. [A pause, as he...considers how that's not quite true.] Not for any Cwyld infection, at least. The healers were very solicitous about anyone who might've gotten their minds snared by the Circle and I--did say I'd want someone to check me over, after what I'd mentioned to you.
[The odd gaps in his memory. The things he'd felt compelled to do or not do, and the evidence L had found that someone had been tampering with him hypnotically. Telling his own Bonded he couldn't be trusted had been awful but necessary.] Though Linden thinks he's solved the original problem, at least.
["The original problem." It's a measure of how discomfited Myr is by all of this that he's talking around this in euphemisms--] --But we can talk about that over dinner, dearheart; you've got to be starving!
[--and trying to avoid dwelling on it too long in favor of caring for someone else.]
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He scrambled quickly from the carriage as it pulls up. Luckily, he's just in time to spot Myr's antler's bouncing along through their shared garden. Prance is too whimsical a word, but Everett feels like his legs practically carry him overtop the hedges to meet his bonded as immediately as possible.]
Darling, Myr, it's so good to see you! How do you feel?
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Crookytail, [he calls to his wormipede, who obligingly lifts up several segments to take the basket he's carrying. All the better for him to reach out for Everett and grab his much-taller Bonded in a tight embrace.]
Better now that you're home, dearheart. [He's still exhausted and worried, through their Bond, but he's not lying about being better: It's one big worry put to rest to have Everett back with him.]
You're home to stay, I hope? They won't need to see you back? [Hopefully those words don't come off sounding a little desperate. Too many of Myr's people (his herd) are where he can't reach them right now.]
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That I am, such an infection left me quick enough. What about you, will you need to return?
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No, thank the Maker. [A pause, as he...considers how that's not quite true.] Not for any Cwyld infection, at least. The healers were very solicitous about anyone who might've gotten their minds snared by the Circle and I--did say I'd want someone to check me over, after what I'd mentioned to you.
[The odd gaps in his memory. The things he'd felt compelled to do or not do, and the evidence L had found that someone had been tampering with him hypnotically. Telling his own Bonded he couldn't be trusted had been awful but necessary.] Though Linden thinks he's solved the original problem, at least.
["The original problem." It's a measure of how discomfited Myr is by all of this that he's talking around this in euphemisms--] --But we can talk about that over dinner, dearheart; you've got to be starving!
[--and trying to avoid dwelling on it too long in favor of caring for someone else.]