In an instant—faster than most eyes could track—Mearie and Luminara stood from their chairs like synchronized automatons, their expressions blank only for a single second before warm, motherly alarm took over. They blurred across the room in a flash of shadow and silk, materializing beside the tanned warrioress with all the urgency of a battlefield medic and none of the chaos.
"Darling?" Mearie whispered, her voice soft enough to cradle a wounded heart. She conjured a silken handkerchief from pure white magic, infused with a calming aura, and dabbed gently at Serika's cheek.
"Oh, my dumb brain!" Luminara cursed, pulling from her dimensional ring a bundle of sweet, cooling herbal leaves that glowed with restorative essence. "I should've known giving wine to a woman carrying grief the size of a mountain was a mistake! But I did it anyway, too self-centered to realize you were hurting!"
