Two kittens had an argument. It was a cat-astrophe.

Elbows resting on his knee’s Ruth listened, hands clasped together in an easy cradle. The realisation he’d rescued yet another Warden had him scooting back carefully, the last encounter with his Order losing him an eye. Yet, he had experience with the blight, not much than understanding no usual magic could cure it, his curiosity outweighed his caution. Yet again, distracted by the shiny, new thing.

“Ah, so the side effects of it are, well, unknown. That raises an issue. You should not be over-exerting. You felt fine, but then suddenly collapsed? What if that was during one of your Orders missions?” Relaxing a little, Ruth eyed him carefully, seriously. “Experiments… their outcome is unknown, changes can appear years later. At least, for the first year, you should not over do it and have a companion with you. It might not be a healer who finds you next time.”

His tone may have sounded harsh, but it was perhaps a development his patient had not foreseen coming, and that he could forgive. Sighing, Ruth leaned back into the chair heavily. “Regardless, I got a good romp for appearing to do a good deed. We can call it even, Warden.” Again, a voice chided him, there were many wardens all over… he needed to spend less time around the Stoner, or maybe it was Willie, whoever, people were beginning to have an effect on his that usually unaccommodating stonewalling. “Forgive the coldness, last time I dare help a Warden, it cost me an eye. I’d rather keep this one if its all the same.”