Tender Lumplings Everywhere, Life's No Fun Without A Good Scare [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

The woods are dark and deep, but not particularly lovely. If anything, they feel dangerous, as if something terrible might come lurching out from behind any given tree and tear into the nearest warm body. What that terrible thing might be is anyone's guess. A cat with hands? Slenderman? Stegosaurus? Actual cannibal Shia LaBeouf? All of the above in a horrible mob? It's anyone's guess. But every dreamer will be absolutely convinced that there is something unspeakable out there, and that it's after them.

The dreamers have two things on their side. The first is that there is actually nothing dangerous lurking in these woods (with the possible exception of other dreamers). The pervasive terror the dreamers are feeling is just that: a rift-given feeling, nothing more and nothing less. That snapping twig or rustle in the undergrowth is almost certainly just a squirrel or something else equally harmless.

The second is that no dreamer is alone. They all will be reunited with - or introduced to - their dæmons, a source of comfort in this dark, intimidating wilderness. However frightened the dreamers might be, at least they have someone with them who definitely doesn't want them dead.

[OOC: as ever, any and all are welcome! You don't have to be in the game to join the fun. Dreamers can remember or forget the events of the dream at the players' discretion. And the party only stops when you want it to; feel free to backtag forever.]

Comments

[captain_mal]

Tā​mā​de!

See now this is one of the problem Mal's got with people who come off all sweet and caring. He's got plenty good aim and enough confidence in it that even with everything around him acting so gorram bizarre, he trusts his hand enough to keep steady and hit a ruttin' target, in this case a tree or nothing much at all and the only thing that can possibly mess him up is when folks go acting like fools sometimes thinking they can dive out of the way of what's meant just to be an arm or leg shot and end up with the bullet lodged somewhere worse, but most of the time just by going and trying to be heroes.

Yeah, well, Mal has been around in this 'verse long enough to tell you acting like a hero don't do anyone damn bit of good. Because a hero ain't really anything more than a fool who thinks he's doing something good, and not just good but good enough to be worth dying for. So he goes and puts himself in harms way and all that happens is all hell rains down on him and anyone close to him and for all his efforts he find himself either dead or worse having to watch others dying because of him. And for all the good he thinks he's doing that's always the only real change that comes from it, that at the end of it all there are a few less folks still living.

Mal is old and weathered and knows enough to see heroism for what it is; just a man's way of being selfish while feeling good about himself for it but the young ones? They don't know any better yet than to carry on being optimistic, they haven't had to look right into the worst of humanity and even if they do, well, they can't help but believe the flicker of light they see is some sort of hope or good intention when it ain't nothing of the sort. So they go on with their goodness and believing their hearts to be in the right place. Exactly the kind of shǎ​dàn who don't even give a second thought to just how stupid it is before, say, jumping in front of a bullet not even meant for no one.

They're just too young to know better than to play at being heroes.

A lot happens all in a flash, which happens plenty of times when you fire a gun and Mal's practiced enough to know how to react without much more than maybe a single fleeting thought, just takes it in and counters quick as a man can. Still, most of that comes from his years in the war and even back at the ranch and ever since then he's been in plenty a situation that called for a good solid grasp on fighting and gun skills so it's hard to think of a time where he's been so out of his element he's got no idea what to do once bullets have been fired. Fair to say this may just be one of those times.

Before he's even released the trigger the mountain of a bear that had been sitting before him all but disappears which Mal had been thinking about before he fired. No matter how things might look after the fact, he ain't Jayne for heaven's sake. To be certain, Mal might be a bit less gun shy than most other folks but likely they wouldn't feel the same way had they lived out his life. Mal's just more than use to being in situations where being able to protect oneself is the only way he's still left standing today against what he is sure Zoe would argue is all good reason. Mal don't just shoot for the hell of it as Jayne has been known to do; when he's not liking the situation or the person is disagreeable or its just one of those days. No, Mal don't approve of treating a serious weapon so lightly, see, 'cause once you've fired well you never can be certain what the consequences will be.

Like here.... Here Mal had felt more than right in pulling the trigger. Not even just because he's been made to feel utterly confused and there's a real weariness to this place he just can't shake but because, damnit, even if this beast ain't real or is some kind of trick he seems real enough and he's got claws easily the size of Mal's arm and he's waving them at his gorramn horse (which, no, ain't technically his, but had been traveling with him and stayed beside him this entire time and had shown to have a certain amount of trust in the captain, and when an animal is willing to give you all of that, well, you've got to take a certain responsibility for it even when these no real good reason as to why). Now you threaten what is his and of course Mal's going to make a move to protect it, in this case he figured it best to just put a little sliver of fright in the beast's heart in return for scare the stallion. That's all it's meant to be, nothing more than a warning to shake up the system and quiet people down some, giving Mal a chance to contemplate this big old mess he's in.

Would be his luck that doing so only makes more of a mess of things. You just know, too, Jayne wouldn't have put a single thought into shooting that thing straight off ages ago, and probably wouldn't have wound up with half the trouble Mal's now got on his hands.

Should have been able to see it coming, too, that's the part he hates the most in all this. Well, no, in actuality that would be the fact that Melanie is now laying out on the dirt, blood welling up under her clothes but if that weren't more than enough for Mal to feel guilt over, than add to that the fact that he should have known better than to take that shot because he should have realized she is precisely the kind of good-hearted soul who wouldn't want to see anyone hurt, even just some elaborate talking animal side show.

Tāmāde niǎo... If she'd just kept herself still no one would have gotten any more hurt than a bit of shock but of course she probably didn't even consider as much because heroes rarely ever do.

"Gāisǐ," Mal curses first because he can't think of much else to say then immediately wishing he hadn't said anything at all, particularly that, and is more than a little relieved to remember she won't understand as it's just about the most inappropriate curse Mal could have pulled out, and here he'd been worried about toning down his language for the sake of the youngster.

Duō​me fēng​hé​rì​lì rì zài dì​yù.... Could have prevented all of this if -- well, for starters if he'd never gotten stuck this ruttin' excuse for a civilized world in the first place, and then if someone 'round here hadn't wasted their precious time teaching their children circus tricks instead of Chinese like normal folks. Those are the first two things to come to mind and he's sure there are plenty more if he really thought on them, but at the moment Mal's brains already been working at something of a frenzied pace to keep from panicking, and it ain't even working at that.

Besides, all the excuses in the 'verse don't make up for the fact that this is his fault, after all. He's a ruttin' full grown old man and she ain't nothing more than a wisp of a child and it don't really matter if she's got some kind of trick shape bender with her, does it? Not seeing as she's still such a little thing who really hasn't been all that mean to Mal - crazy, sure, a little, but never straight out mean and now Mal's gone and given her plenty of good reasons to be seeing as he's the one who shot her and all.

Mal learned long ago that it don't matter how much of an accident it had been or what the other person had done, you shot someone and it's on your hands. And now this is in Mal's.

"Duì​bu​qǐ, wǒ yī bèn lǎo​tóur yǔ méi kē xīn," Mal apologizes before realizing that, too, wouldn't make a lick of sense to the poor girl and she surly don't need to be hearing nonsense words when she's probably already pretty good and confused. Still, there are some things that are just easier to express in Chinese. Left with only English Mal sort of stumbles trying to find the right words to say.

Then again, talking has never been his strongest quality. 'Sides, they don't really mean much next to action. Supposed he'd just been expecting a moment of silence to think things through and now all he could here is this poor child near sobbing and crying out some word Mal doesn't recognize at all, could be one of those French or Spanish languages he'd never heard of. Mal holster's his gun and starts to scramble over to her, he could at least try and stop the bleeding or - Lǎo​ye de wú​shù tiān​táng don't do this to them. Of all the good persons to be here dealing with this... Not that Mal wants to up and leave, just for the girl's own sake seems like there must be someone better out there.

Now, on the one hand it's been a while since Mal's actually gotten around to praying much, mostly on account of God clearly all but abandoning him back when Mal believed in his holiness and kindness and all so he might be somewhat rusty on how it all works. On the other hand, do believe he would have recalled if it worked like this. Don't think even the good Shepard's prayers have ever been answered with such haste, and he's a much better man than Mal's ever been and likely with a better signal. Also, suppose he would have used it more often if every time he did it summoned some kind of wing angel directly too him.

Course that's nothing but utter nonsense running through a very frantic, already good and freaked out mind that he'd given no permission to just jump ship that way. Hardly any decent people out in the 'verse these days, never mind real and true angels. He's minds just stressed past the point of reasonablity and doesn't know what else to make of a winged man appearing out of thin air. Plus now he's got a swords. On fire.

Sort of thing that can get a man to stop dead in his tracks.

Perhaps he really is dreaming, Mal briefly considered, or perhaps - and far more likely - he's finally snapped and this is what it's like to be in River's head all the time to have things just changing shape on you and folks coming out of nowhere not looking quite right or human and using all sorts of crazy unreal weapons while sounding all kinds of real threatening. No wonder that girl can go throwing the loudest fits you ever heard. Hell, Mal's wishing he could do the same right about now.

Don't really have the time, though, least of all right this moment because with all the messed up pìhuà happening, most of which Mal ain't sure is some sort of trick or hallucination of lord only knows, there are only a couple of things left Mal knows and recognizes as being real. Things like naive young things who throw themselves in front of gunfire even when it could easily end them all to save something other than their own skin. It's the sort of ridiculous, irrational, selfless things that makes you wonder what the person was thinking and why they'd be so damn reckless?

Because they're real and human and if Mal knows anything it's that means making a whole lot of mistakes, often dangerous and usually stupid.

Which means some poor girl is bleeding out on account of Mal's own rash decision making, and could very much be in a real bit of trouble. So everything else around that talk when it ain't suppose to or appear from where there'd been nothing before, or had unnatural-like wings that don't rightly belong on them would just have to wait to the side while Mal took care of the more pressing troubles that he's far more sure of. He's had plenty of real life experience with bullet holes and how quick things can turn nasty, so as scary as it might be to go lighting some oversized knife on fire it ain't really something Mal's got any good reason to let frighten him.

'Sides which, the stubborn streak in him has failed to back down in face of a lot more far heavier armed forces, so unless he's brought the good Lord's entire fencing team, he don't see why he should be the one to back down here.

"Alright," Mal says with a bit of a nod of his head, doing his damnedest to take this all in strides. "Don't know where you came from just now or what the hell you folks 'round here do for fun." Meaning the whole act with dressing up and all the tricks they seem to be able to pull off. Hey, some worlds, he's been told, have taken up the hobby of juggling geese so as far as he's concerned this is just another weird lot of locals that he pretty well intends to never visit again. "But let me tell you something about me, you best get out of my way and let me get to that xiǎo​xiǎo yī​ gè or so help me I will shoot you down." Mal keeps his gun holstered, but that doesn't stop him from making threats. His stance pretty much says it as well as a gun to the face, anyway, with tense shoulders, a hardened glare, and pointing right at the... well, might as well call it an angel since Mal has no gorram clue what the hell this thing is, just that he doesn't have the time to care.

[all_the_gifts]

Mal starts forward, not to threaten but because he wants to help, because he still thinks he knows what's best. She might appreciate the good intentions if she didn't know what would happen if he gets her blood into his system. Would he even wake up if he started to turn into a hungry? Or would he just run through the woods, mindlessly tearing into any other dreamers he came across? She can't let that happen, she won't, and she scrambles backward accordingly as Nikolaos plants himself between her and Mal, teeth bared.

Then Aziraphale is there, just as he promised, wings flared and a blazing sword in his hand. Melanie stills, floored by the sight of him. Her heart clenches in much the same way that it had when Miss Justineau had crashed into Dr. Caldwell's lab with a fire extinguisher. For someone so good to do something so big, for her, it's so much more than she deserves, and she is so, so desperately grateful.

But she doesn't want anyone to get hurt. "He doesn't know what's going on," she explains in a panicked rush, "and Niko scared him and I just--I was so stupid." And there's no excuse for it, really; the star pupil should have been able to figure out the right thing to do.

"We tried to explain," Niko says. He still sounds annoyed, but now that help has arrived, much of the earlier anger has been supplanted by worry. Still, he stands his ground, hackles raised, just beneath Aziraphale's left wing.

Melanie watches the standoff anxiously, but her attention is diverted by Orisa's sudden arrival. "Oh," she says, astonished, as the snake curls around her like a hug, smooth and strong and warm from the angel's body heat. She nudges her head against Melanie's free hand, and the girl's fingers brush against the tiny, soft scales around her neck. "You shouldn't be here," Melanie says, little as she actually wants to send Orisa away. "It's not safe. I'm bleeding."

[bibliophale]

Aziraphale narrows his eyes and stands firm, unmoved by the threat or the weapon that backs it up. "I believe you've done enough," he says. "That 'xiǎo​xiǎo yī​ gè' is under my protection." Not sure what to make of the man's sudden burst of Mandarin, but it's scarcely relevant at the moment. Melanie and Niko's contributions he ignores for now; poor thing, always so well-intentioned, but he isn't about to hurt this upstart and he knows well enough, whatever happened, it could not have been due to Melanie being 'stupid'. No matter what she may have done or said, she is not the one firing on the defenseless.

Speaking of, that'll be quite enough of that, thank you. With a subtle flick of his wrist he alters the weapon's interior, subtly but enough to change the weight; no more bullets, only water. To Mal, he says, "You'll stand there, and you'll deal with me. I have no desire to harm you, but I will not allow you to touch her."

"I'm not going anywhere," says Orisa to Melanie, quiet but matter-of-fact. "Your blood can't harm anyone here, and regardless you can't harm me. It's going to be all right." She examines the wound briefly, then tilts her head to look at Nikolaos, so brave and vicious. "Come here, Niko, Melanie needs you." Better to diffuse the situation, if the animals are what's making this man jumpy.

Aziraphale wants to heal Melanie's wound - it will be the work of moments, but he needs to make contact with her, and he won't turn his back on this human just yet. Melanie will be fine, it is only a dream, but even in dreams this sort of behavior is unacceptable. "Explain yourself," he says coldly.

[captain_mal]

To Mal's mind, whoever this stranger is, he's acting downright rude.

First off, you don't just going showing up out of nowhere. Well, not unless you're looking to get yourself shot. In this case the fellow had been lucky enough seeing as Mal had just something of a misfire and his brain was taking it's sweet time catching up with the whole mess of a situation. Add to that being rightly preoccupied with the kid and, well, who goes and uses that as an excuse to go sneaking up on a man? 'Specially seeing as right at the moment time is not on their side.

It's hard to get a god look at Melanie, what with as small a creature as she is and seeing as Mal has a pair of wings, dog, and for some gorram reason a ruttin' snake now wrapped around her blocking his view. Mal might not be the most educated of folks but he's pretty certain that snakes can't sniff out blood like some kind of creeping coyote, and the large ones can rarely move all that fast or where it even came from....

But, no, of course Mal is the dangerous one here, not the giant snake that looks to be easily able to swallow that girl whole if it took to the idea. Yet here is this niǎo rén is trying to hold Mal back when he seems to be the only one around the least bit concerned about the girl lying there on the ground bleeding out, and without a proper look at her wounds Mal can't tell if the bullet is still lodged in there or not, causing even more damage. They need to get that out soon as possible, but suppose it's more important this guy show off whatever tricks he's got up his sleeves. Seems this whole gorram world is full of folks training to swindle hardworking types out of their well-earned coins. Probably doesn't even care about the poor kid, just looking for a way to show off is all.

Whoever he is, sure is protective for someone who couldn't be all that close to Melanie. After all, what sort of responsible adult lets a child go wandering through dark forests talking with strangers carrying guns and luring them out of trees? She all but told him she don't have no one to rely on, so he couldn't be anyone who looked in on her all that often. Also, seemed to understand language well enough. Sort of hùsheng knows well enough how to speak in both languages of this 'verse and then goes and only teaches a youngster one of them? Keeps her rather grounded, no wondered the poor thing don't know anything about ships.

Not that alone it's enough to end a man's life over, Mal reminds himself as he pulls his pistol out to make his point a little more clear. Just saying that he's accumulating reasons awful quick-like for a man he's just met.

At the same, Melanie seems to be familiar with the stranger, but suppose that's a given seeing as must be they come from the same backward circus show. So Mal figures whoever he is, he ain't nearly as important as saving someone never seen meant to get shooting the first place, who certainly don't deserve to loose an arm about it never mind worse. If Mal goes and kills someone Melanie knows don't seem likely she'll be very open to letting Mal get a look at that wound even if it's all in the name of trying to help. But hell if he ain't going to help her, and no niǎo-nǎo de guài​wu is about to stand in his way.

"Now, I'm telling you to back down," Mal growls, the end of his pistol pointed square in between his eyes. He shot her he'd damn well make it right, well, if he could just get this asshole out of his way. "Or else I'm going to have to-"

It's all done in one quick, sharp movement. Mal tosses the gun up just enough to grab it by the barrel, slamming the heavy butt of his pistol right into the angel's ear without hesitating that comes with a good conscious but plenty of practice pulling much the same trick on more than a handful of occasions. Good for knocking folks out so long as you ain't too worried about causing brain-damage.

[all_the_gifts]

At Orisa's call, Niko reluctantly backs down and returns to Melanie's side, his shaggy coat all but engulfing her uninjured shoulder and a portion of Orisa, as well. "I don't like this," he growls in an undertone. "He doesn't listen."

"He'll listen to Aziraphale," Melanie says with complete confidence. She might not like the way adults tend to dismiss her for her age (at least until they find out her IQ, which sometimes earns her a little respect), but she understands it, or at least isn't surprised by it. Mal's just another grown up who didn't take her seriously because she's young. But Aziraphale is old, and he's an angel - he's clearly an angel - so surely Mal will listen to him.

But he doesn't. He pulls out his gun again - as bad as a soldier, trying to solve everything by shooting at it - and Melanie stiffens in alarm. "Don't!" she objects, just as he changes his grip on the gun and swings it at the angel's head. Aziraphale staggers, and Orisa lets out a cry that's more indignant than pained, and Melanie is on her feet, staggering a little under Orisa's weight.

"NO!" she screams. Why is he doing this? "Stop! He's..." what? An angel, which any fool could see? Not a threat to her, which he's already made plain? Frightened, furious, she bellows, "He's mine!"

And they are not letting Mal hurt her angel.

Nikolaos doesn't change so much as sprout, neck and tail and all four limbs shooting outward and upward, head becoming bulbous, jaws widening to hold a truly appalling set of teeth, forepaws shifting into long, taloned fingers that flex menacingly. He towers over all of them, a deep growl rumbling in his cavernous chest, then lowers his head on its sinuous neck and fixes a large, red eye on the captain.

"You will not strike him again," thunders her jabberwock.

[bibliophale]

The strike is a surprise, which is appalling enough in itself, that Aziraphale allowed himself to be caught off guard. The worst he'd anticipated was a stream of water to the face. That hurts, and he stumbles enough that this absurdly bullheaded human gets past him, his hearing abruptly and briefly shorted out, now too muffled to hear anything but Melanie screaming - he turns his head sharply, in time to see her up, furious, and the ringing stops just in time to hear her call him hers.

That - that's - he doesn't even know how to begin to react to that. And he doesn't have time anyway. For a split second he just gapes at her. The human has brazenly (unsurprisingly) ignored Niko's command, even as immense and terrifying as he suddenly is, and is now on his kneels, close, too close to Melanie.

"Stop," he snaps, raising his hand. He freezes the human in place. He'll be able to breathe, observe, think, talk (though Aziraphale's keeping his finger on the proverbial trigger for that one), but he will not make another move toward her. "Enough. Don't hurt him, Niko. I'm all right."

He brushes himself off, disappears the sword and his wings, and stalks around the human to Melanie. He reaches out, and Orisa gladly crawls back up to his shoulders, allowing him to pick Melanie up.

"Everything's all right," he murmurs to her. Like that, her wound is healed, her blood is gone. Simple.

He turns on the human.

"If it is help you wanted to offer," he says, "perhaps you ought to listen to her next time."

[captain_mal]

"Stop!"

Mal has never been a particularly good one when it comes to following orders, especially when it's from persons he don't know nor cares to get to know in all honesty. So he doesn't suspect that just on account of the man looking like an angel that Mal is going to change his ways on that habit anytime soon. Hell, he's a sight more likely too -

Hmm... Well now, ain't that just the strangest thing?

The wet leaves crunch under his knees as Mal slips down to the ground, trying to reach out to Melanie. He doesn't just go grabbing her - he ain't a complete bèn dàn after all - knows if he were to going trying to force her to let him get a look at her arm that she's just going to continue freaking out on him which ain't at all what Mal wants, he's just trying to help her is all. Sure, her injury is mostly on his own account but that just makes it more his responsibility to check the damn thing, and right now that's all he's trying to get at. Be surprised how fast these wounds can bleed out or go bad, 'specially of some or even just a fragment of the bullet's lodged itself in there. If that's he case she's going to need some serious aid, and he don't mean some giant snake cutting off blood flow and a flaming sword to cauterization the wound as helpful as he's sure those sorts of tricks are when your injuries are from equally deceptive gimmicks they kind of which they keep employing though Mal has shown no patients for them.

Makes it even stranger that when the angel resorts to simply yelling commands at him - he's stronger than he looks, Mal will give him that much, that sort of blow should have knocked a man flat on his back and possibly left him there for a while to come - like after all his other mechanisms and con-acts this will be what finally gets Mal's attention.Yet like a child called out in a schoolroom Mal's hand stops halfway stretched out, hi fingers half curled out in offering to Melanie,just about as gentle as he could be when he really felt that wound needs attended to 'specially with such a slight, pale little thing probably ain't got much blood in her to lose. Weirder is how his other hand, sliding his pistol back in the holster in hopes it might help calm the girl's nerves somewhat seems to be just as stuck. Now that's notice it Mal finds he can't move a damn thing, every inch down to his damn toes are totally paralyzed.

Not just like he's gone still from the shock of being yelled at, nothing like that at all in fact, but he can't actually move a muscle, not for all he is worth, and he damn well strains near every one of them trying to get just about anywhere and the closest he comes is making some choked grunts, almost surprising in a way but it seems most of his face muscles work well enough.

"What the ruttin' hell have you done from me you bái​mù mā càode," Mal growls, and to say now that it might be a favor the girl can't understand him is something of an understatement, especially if Mal had any chance to unleash half of what is sitting right at the tip of his tongue. But before he went into the details over just what this man could go do and to who Mal wants some gorramn answers. Some kind of paralyzing drug, Mal suspects, but when he even had time to administer it how Mal missed such a thing, those are the real questions, ones he's betting he won't be hear much turthfullness on. "Best you cut the bullshit wèi​le Shén shèng​jié de pìyǎn seeing as you've got the costuming for it and all, angel." There's a real mocking sense to his smile and flirtations banter stuck on at the end, especially after all the rest of hadn't so much been spoken but growled, but just in case the stranger has any doubts what Mal's thoughts are on this whole act, well, there you have it.

And supposing he is some messenger from God than fine, have it your way old man, he's learned his lesson. Next time he doesn't try and help the kid, just lets them bleed out on the side of the road like a good Christian should.

[all_the_gifts]

Nikolaos is beyond outraged when Mal just blunders past him, and his neck twists to follow him as he starts toward Melanie. The girl stumbles backward a few paces, because despite Orisa's reassurances, she doesn't want her blood anywhere near a human, dream or no. Niko's jaws gape wide, ready to do what jabberwock jaws do… and then the captain stills, and Aziraphale tells him to stop. Niko pauses, his fangs a foot from Mal's back, then reluctantly withdraws with an angry huff of air that ruffles the man's shirt.

Melanie glances down at Mal's outstretched hand, frozen in place as if a spell has been cast (which, she supposes, it sort of has been), then shifts her focus to Aziraphale. The sword and wings are gone, and the second loss is disappointing, but he doesn't seem hurt so much as just bothered, and that is reassuring. She feels a little bereft when Orisa goes back to Aziraphale, but it's short lived because he picks her up, next, the wound on her arm healing in an instant, the blood gone as if it had never been there in the first place. She puts her arms around Aziraphale's neck, and Nikolaos lands on her stomach in the shape of a much smaller owl than before.

"He is an angel," Melanie says, looking down at Mal. It's not pleasant, seeing him locked in place down there, but she doesn't know what else Aziraphale could have done. Part of her wants to say more, to try and explain, but she's starting to wonder what the point would be. Nikolaos was right. He just doesn't listen. She frowns down at Mal, then turns to tuck her face into Aziraphale's neck. "Can we go?" she asks quietly. "I think we should go."

[bibliophale]

Aziraphale spares Mal a very nearly contemptuous glance at the mocking, too-familiar tone of 'angel' - only Crowley can call him that, thank you very much, and he's been known to punch people for the infraction - but it's hardly important now. The man is angry, that is no surprise - and Aziraphale doesn't like having to revoke anyone's bodily autonomy, but he wasn't really left with any other choice.

He hugs Melanie close, feeling an intense warmth for her in spite of everything around them, and letting that warmth spread a little to her. "Of course," he murmurs.

He shifts her to one arm, a rather difficult task when he is also supporting the weight of a large ball python and a very fluffy owl, and lowers one hand to make a dismissive, inconsequential gesture at the man behind him. He would never be so cruel as to let the man wait the dream out frozen like that - he'll make his own misery sure enough.

He releases Mal with the gesture, and in the next moment he, Melanie, and their companions are all gone.