GrimReapette

It all moved so fast. Quinn had barely registered what Ankit said before Nashandra had scooped her up and started running. If it weren’t for the fact that Quinn was battling waves of exhaustion, dizziness, and fear, the whole show would have been very romantic. Seeing as it was happening because she was just diagnosed with the Mystery Elf’s Plague Part 2, she wasn’t feeling much like a pretty princess in the arms of a dashing knight. Happily, or sadly, she wasn’t in Nashandra’s arms for very long. One moment she was being carried and cradled, and the next she was dumped into a bed the patient wing of Ankit’s tent. As the world was beginning to make sense again, Ankit grabbed Quinn’s wrist and dunked it into an earthenware bowl sitting on a small table beside the bed. “Can you feel anything?” Ankit asked, his voice awkwardly calm and demanding. “It sort of tingles.” That wasn’t the right answer. Ankit’s face clouded, and as it did Quinn noticed there was steam coming from the water.

“Hey Quinny-baby, it’s breakfast time!” Sandy called. When there wasn’t an immediate answer, he carefully opened the door to his and Quinn’s room. Usually she didn’t sleep in this late. Quinn had always been the early-to-bed-early-to-rise type. Part of him expected to find her already awake and reading over her Bank documents, but upon entering the room he found her still curled up on the bed. The reanimated bairdy clicked his teeth and trotted over, expertly balancing a tray of breakfast biscuits and a latte in his free hand. “I guess the beds here really are coma inducers, like Terry boasts,” he laughed. He set down his tray of treats and then turned to Quinn. Her form was still on the bed, and for a heart-skip-inducing moment he was afraid that maybe—Oh thank Dru—her chest rose and fell properly. Something about being dead always made you afraid that the ones you cared about died too. Sandy constantly forgot that if Quinn died, he’d deanimate. Necromancy spells were tied to the

The next morning, Nashandra woke to about a thousand knocks at her door. While part of her wanted to regret it, most of her refused to. It had been good to see Quinn yesterday, and it was somewhat heartwarming that she was so intent upon helping her. It was just early and Nashandra had been enjoying sleeping in past the sunrise. Ankit was always an early bird. The knocks continued and Nashandra knew she would have no peace until she answered them. Groaning softly, she slid out of her bed and pulled on her clothes from yesterday. At the one-thousandth and thirty-fifth knock, she opened the door. “Quinn, I’m here,” she said slowly. “What is—AH!” She yelped slightly as Quinn grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of her room. Since when had Quinn been that strong? Or was Nashandra just too tired to stand firm like she usually did? Either way, she stumbled into the hall as Quinn shut her door. “C’mon! I’ve got an amazing day planned for you!” Quinn announced. Again, there was a sizeable