Ember is silent for a little longer than usual, studying Mosaic. Some instinct itches in the back of her head, warning about the risk of losing a pack member to hidden injury or sickness. Because Mosaic is moving differently, even though underneath, she smells the same. The mismatch is disquieting.

"...we have some. I kept a bottle of something white. We don't have fresh seawater to add to it, but I think we'll be able to fill some vats when we arrive. Bucca!" The knight turns to the captive maid, a doe-eyed youth seized from the ranks of the [i]Slitted[/i]'s administrative corps, and tilts her chin up with one gauntleted hand. "Fetch~" (The rumble underlying her voice is playful, a warning that any impudence would be met with escalation, but done for Bucca's sake as much as for Mosaic's. It is necessary for the Alpha to be domineering and forceful, but the real Ember lies in the shallows underneath.)

"B-but I don't want to get into the details yet," she adds, turning her attention fully back to her lover. A gentle touch to the arm that holds the jacket together, a release of Affection, her purple-rimmed eyes looking into Mosaic's own. "I've got it. And you don't need to worry. You have [i]earned[/i] this, sunlight. We're here, free and ready to fight, because you convinced us all to work together. You don't need to carry everyone's burdens tonight. Not tonight. Not here. I have everything under control, and once your new maid gets back with the wine, we can... go and watch the fireworks from somewhere private?"

She can't hide the wagging, or the hopeful note in her voice. It's been hectic ever since the [i]Plousios[/i] launched, long nights alone, and details from before the fight against the [i]Slitted[/i] are fuzzy and hard to hold onto, but they haven't had a night together, just for themselves. Not since the launch.