Sou Yuet's eyes traced the letters over and over. They wondered dimly if their limited grasp of the written common tongue had made them misunderstand the words.

But no matter how many times they re-read the note, no other meaning revealed itself.

The blood of the anqa silently soaked into the sand behind them.

The necromancer barely breathed.

When a harsh gust of hot wind tugged the note from their fingers, Sou Yuet didn't even have a single thought of holding on to it. It slipped away easily and disappeared amongst the sand dunes in an instant. Sunny whimpered and Sou Yuet turned to her like one in a trance.

"Sunny, are you thirsty? Here, drink some of the water..." They carefully tipped water into Sunny's open jaws, then examined the other bottle. Upon opening it, a delightful and complex scent emerged.

But what was Sou Yuet supposed to do with it? Did their friend have to drink it? Was it applied topically? The scent was somewhat familiar, but two plants could be related to each other, and yet one could be a panacea, and the other, a poison.

The monk smelt the substance again. What if there was something else mixed in, hidden below the strong scents? What if...?

The necromancer's face was so very, very pale.

With shaking hands, Sou Yuet tipped the contents of the bottle over the necromancer's open wounds before hastily reapplying the cloth and the pressure.

Perhaps Sunny could go retrieve some materials to make a fire? If they could just cauterise the wounds...

The sun was moving. Sou Yuet had to find another position to keep the necromancer out of the harsh glare. They looked at the now empty bottle.

Had they done the right thing? They should have learnt more about the local medicine when they had the chance... Perhaps that wasn't yu heung, frankincense, after all, but something else. Maybe it was meant to be drunk. How was their friend supposed to drink it in her state though?

"Sunny, we need to make a fire, do you understand? Sunny... Please, you need to find some sticks and leaves... Some straw, if you can find it. Faai di! Hurry!"

The puppy raced away, scattering sand. Sou Yuet closed their eyes, but kept the pressure on the necromancer's chest.

Why hadn't they carried some more medicine with them? Had they thought they were skilled enough to avoid death? Did they think they were immortal?

They tried to draw out the needles again but they were so exhausted...

What if they infused a little hei to control the shaking? And then again, what if that hei caused harm to the innately death-aligned witch?

Sunny was not long in coming back. She had somehow managed to cram some straw, several twigs, and a small branch that had clearly been part of someone's firewood pile in her mouth. The straw was wet from her saliva but rolling it in the sand dried it quickly.

"Sunny, lie down on here... Good girl... It's okay, we need to put pressure on the wounds..."

As Sunny lay obediently on the necromancer's injured chest, Sou Yuet hastily sliced the branch, then cut a small notch on the newly exposed surface, grateful that the wood was soft and would therefore make an excellent fireboard. They seized the straightest stick, and with the straw placed close by, began to rub the stick rapidly between both palms to produce a friction fire. Sunny watched avidly.

Sweat dripped off the tip of the monk's nose. They had never really liked lighting fires, an unfortunate by-product of being born with a strong Wood element. It took a few agonising minutes before an ember thankfully appeared, and Sou Yuet anxiously fed it some straw. The straw smoked white, then yellow, then caught as the monk blew on it, singeing their hair. They piled the remaining twigs and branch into the flames, and followed it with the dagger they had just used on the anqa. The blood on the blade disintegrated with the heat.

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Sou Yuet stared at the blade, willing it to heat faster.

Should I just try using the needles after all?

The sun was already setting.

Is it ready?

"Sunny!" Sou Yuet called. "We need more -"

The necromancer coughed weakly. "Ugh... why's this mutt on me?" She blinked owlishly at Sou Yuet. "Can... ye get her off? She's heavy..."

She blinked some more when the monk simply stared at her. "Hey... Ah Yuet? I don't want to rush ye or anything, but everything already hurts enough..."

"... I... we thought you were dying."

"Why? I told ye before, I can't die. Urgh... Sometimes I wish I could though, I feel like In Dagda slammed me with his club..." Her bright green eyes, at present a little foggy, drifted over to the small fire that was already dying down, and somehow managed to focus on the dagger. "Why're ye... Ye forgot that I can't die, didn't ye?"

"..."

"Ha... ha ha... ha ha ha... Ow... Ye damn eejit. To be fair, just 'cause I can't die... doesn't mean me wounds just... magically disappear... but ye don't need to go so far as... burning 'em shut... Fact I'd rather ye didn't..."

Sou Yuet went to withdraw the dagger but dropped it immediately. It was hotter than a naked flame, despite the blade remaining shining silver, and their hands were already raw from trying to start the fire.

"Hey... Ah Yuet...?"

The monk stared at the dagger, but they didn't appear to see it.

"Ye damn monk... Don't leave me hanging... here..."

Although the damn monk didn't move, their dark eyes wandered in the necromancer's direction like small frightened animals. The necromancer, still flat on her back, was straining to hold her hands out to Sou Yuet.

"Come here, Ah Yuet."

Sou Yuet silently knelt down beside the witch, took her hands in theirs, and pressed their face into them. With a soft grunt of exertion, the necromancer gently pulled the monk down to lie on the sand next to her, and Sou Yuet fell without resistance. Sunny crept up on the monk's other side and lay herself carefully down at their back, head resting quietly on her paws.

"I'm sorry."

"No... it's..."

"Even if I don't die, I kind of forgot it's a bit scary to see."

"How..." Sou Yuet's breath hitched and they tried again. "How did you know... that you can't...?"

"Um... well..." The necromancer pulled a face, even though the monk, with their face pressed against her side ribs where there were no wounds, couldn't see. "It's... Um... Well, it's like this. I... I, uh... might've tried... ending things a few times."

She felt Sou Yuet's whole body go rigid. Ah shite.

"It's alright now! T'was a long time ago, really! I mean, maybe not so long for you, since ye're... over a hundred and all but... for me... Yeah I'm fine now. I won't do it again. Promise."

The sun was setting once more. Already the searing heat of the day was evaporating. The necromancer sighed. "Hey, Ah Yuet. Me... When I was a kid... some things happened. I was only... I was hurting a lot, back then. And for a few years after that. I just wanted it to be over, but... I couldn't even do that. No matter what I did, I couldn't die, just... kind of lingered until I healed up again. Which sometimes took a while but... Hey, that's a good thing, right? I can't die! It might hurt like feck but I'll bounce back real quick-like."

The monk was still silent. The necromancer tried again.

"Look, the bleeding's stopped! It smells kind of... nice? What did ye put on it? Seems to have done the trick. Good job, monk!"

"I didn't know."

"... Didn't know... what?"

"What it was."

"... the stuff ye put on me, ye mean? Were you experimenting on me again?"

"Alam Wesa sent it. With a note saying he couldn't help."

"Those basta-"

"Because I killed their anqa."

At this point the necromancer finally turned her head painfully the other way and caught sight of the silhouette of the giant creature laying still on the sand. "... That's a rare big chicken ye bled out there."

"I didn't want to... why wouldn't she just let us help her..." Sou Yuet's voice was shaking so much they were barely intelligible.

"It gets like that sometimes, ye know? Just... when ye feel like ye have nothing left except yer anger... and someone's trying to take even that from ye... I'm not saying she did right, but... I get it."

Sou Yuet's hand made a fist in the tattered remains of the necromancer's robes.

"Hey, if ye keep pulling, I'll lose all me clothing. Ye trying to get me naked?"

The only response was a choking sound. Unable to move much, the necromancer awkwardly curled her arm around Sou Yuet's shaking form. She thought about the night before they had left Yuen Mei, sitting outside the room where Yuen Muk spoke about naïveté, about cruelty, and how the witch had snorted to himself and thought maybe it would do that damned unflappable monk some good to learn a thing or two about the world.

The monk lay pressed against her side now, shaking uncontrollably. They were over one hundred years old, and this was the first time they had killed a living being in such a way.

Perhaps, however, from the conversations they had previously had, this was not the first time they had been abandoned.

Cruelty. Naïveté.

The necromancer felt sick, and it wasn't because of her wounds. She wanted to slap some sense into that self-righteous fool that thought Sou Yuet needed to learn a thing or two.

Yes, he had been right.

But gods, it cut deeper than any claw could, to hear the monk cry.