Somna’a had been lucky in many cases in the last 24 hours. He escaped death (again). A comrade had plucked his precious blades he had lost on the battlefield and returned them to him. No one of his comrades were killed. His healer hadn’t left him to die because of his stupid behavior (again). But still he felt like a total idiot. The last nights mission was a disaster and he blamed himself and his appearently badly gathered information on the garlean camp for it. Who could have known they still had these small magitek canons around! They were hidden in the ground! But Somna’a should have been more careful and more thourough in his information gathering before he lead resistance fighters up that hill. Hargrim surely already prepared a loud lecture in his mind while he was still resting in of the tents and recovering from is wounds. Somna’a had shortly visited him while he was still asleep and shortly talked with his other comrades. Those with only minor wounds returned to their camp the half hour march down the hill to prepare their travel back to Ala Gannha. The others would stay here with the medics for now.

Another thing Somna’a hated were bandages. They rubbed his skin and bothered him in his movements. The pain was somehow tolerable, but he had to resist the urge to peel the bandages off and just let the wounds heal on the air. He had behaved like an angry child enough today, he didn’t want to upset the healers here any more than neccessary.

One thing he could not stop doing, however, was leaving his bed and instead wander around the now quiet camp. He was told to rest but he could still do that outside. He had had a mild concussion from a hit to his head and otherwise his limbs were all functional. So wander around he did, while the evening was already upon the sky, only a slight lighter blue Horizon to the west telling of this exhausting day. Autumn was late in Gyr Abania and so he enjoyed the still warmer temperatures in the air. The wounds near his hips felt quite okay. His left arm and shoulder demanded to be held more carefully. With his two blades on his belt again, Somna’a already felt way more safer.

The Miqo’te made a short round to the Chocobo Stables to rub some beaks and stroke some feathers to let his mind be calmed. The big birds were a bit sleepy from todays tension in the air and softly chirped back to the Keeper stalking around their nests.

Somna’a had just left the stables and was passing some tents when he heard strange noises. His sensitive ears moved to different directions to find the source of them, his right hand already on the hilt of one of his blades. The sound was irregular and sounded a bit like raspy breaths. Was it a spy? A wild animal? Silently he passed the small space between two larger tents into the shadows of their backside which faced a rocky, rising slope…

And there he sat. The young Miqo’te who had healed him some hours before. His arms around his legs, the back to the fabric of the tentwalls and what had sounded like breaths before, were his silents sobs. His ears looked so small because they were back closely to his head. Somna’a wondered if he didn’t have a tent of his own to cry in, but who was he to judge. Were it not for his trained Keeper eyes, he wouldn’t even have seen this bluehaired fur ball there in the shadows.

Somna’a shortly pondered whether he should leave the boy alone or not. But he wanted to apologize anyway and he would feel stupid if he would just turn around now and pretent to have seen nothing.

So he took some steps forward, so his Silhouette should be visible in the soft torchlight coming from the camp through the space between the tents. He saw the ears of the Healer move up quickly, before the boy himself almost jumped to his feet like a surprised animal. At least he didn’t scream.

“I…uhm… hi. Do you need s-something? Are you not feeling well?” he said while quickly rubbing his eyes and obviously trying to find his composure again.

“No, no, I am fine. Sorry to disturb you.” Somna’a answered softly. He wore his coat again that left his Chest free and covered his arms. It will have some new patches soon when he had the time to bring it to a weaver. But at least the blood stains he had washed out this afternoon. ”Are you alright? What are you doing here?”

The other Miqo’te needed some seconds to answer, awkwardly brushing his fluffy looking hair on his forehead above the right eye. “Uh…. it was a long day. I just needed some fresh air.” His voice still had that nice soothing sound under all that obvious nervousness, Somna’a observed. He had to admit that the rather gentle reaction a few hours back had earned the healer some of Somna’a’s respect. Guilt crawled up in his chest and he hoped it wasn’t just his fault, that the boy was hiding here to cry.

”There are more beautiful places to do that than here. Have you seen Nyunkrepf’s Hope by night already?”

“I… don’t know what that is, no.” he admittet quietly.

Somna’a smiled and gave a short nod to follow him, making his way back between the tents towards the camp. The smaller Miqo’te followed, whiping his face, his ears still without the strength to fully be up again. Somna’a noticed a small nick on his right ear. As well as a Linkpearl. Not everyone could afford these things, Somna’a thought curiously.

“Do we have to leave the camp for… this?” the Healer asked tentatively.

“Just up the slopes there, on the other side of the hill. Why?”

“I… I don’t know if I feel good about that.” He meant: ‘I don’t feel safe leaving the camp alone with you’, Somna’a clearly heard that in the depth of that soothing voice. The bluehaired Miqo’te had stopped and was wiping his hair around on his forehead again. By Rhalgr, Somna’a even pitied him a bit and, thinking about it, could relate to his words. They were strangers to one another and the Healer clearly not from around here.

“I am the still injured one. And I am sure with that Linkpearl on your right ear, you could call help in seconds if I would bite you.” Somna’a offered gently with a slight nod towards the Healer’s right, soft ear. Still tentative, the brown eyes of the other Miqo’te moved around the camp.

“Do you like Chocobos?” Somna’a then asked with a new idea in mind.

The younger Miqo’te looked up to him again and nodded shortly, a small smile forming on his lips.