but you’d never get hit without earning it
and i only hit you first ‘cuz i deserved my own hit too
still it comes the time to call you out
since i’m the one that you should be about

There is a whispering - perhaps an uncharacteristically helpful fairy or the magics of Beqanna planting a gentle kiss to his forehead - of one who can grant wellness. The Primarch wastes no time in rising from the spot he had nestled in for a nap, plague exhaustion getting the better of him. He wobbles on spindly legs stripped of almost all muscle, emaciation taking a toll after a year of being sick.

Litotes has sacrificed so much for the East and his beloved Hyaline. He knows now he must answer this call, be healed soon, for his body cannot live another year disease-ridden.

Hyaline passes in a blur, mountains and valleys and endless amounts of water all melting together in greens and blues and browns. The tugging on his chest takes him north, through the tall trees of Taiga and the flatlands of Nerine. They both pass Hyaline did - dark and inconsequential.

The channel is what finally gives the cremello pause: bitterly cold water lapping at his hocks. For a minute or so he is lost in the memories of the fairies’ first quest - his first memory of Leilan, the water as it almost took him, Kagerus and Solace struggling against his side (this event being what Lie considers their trust solidifying).

He thinks not of the water when he eventually immerses himself into it. The swim is a struggle, but no different from harrowing journey from a year ago. Upon the shore he is called again, drawn to the flower-toting women like a predator to their prey. He can smell her, eyes drooping as he grows more exhausted by the second. The bright green of her coat is what finally snaps his eyes open. Lie’s topaz eyes widen in surprise, but quickly close in a pained cough. He smiles at her apologetically soon after.

“Do you know . . . do you know of any healers on the island?” Perhaps she can point him in the right direction.