"Honestly Hae, must you make a mess of yourself?"


Deep in a massive willow engraved with the sign of a medic, a red and white Veilspun carefully attends to her current patient. Said patient, completely wrapped in bandages, looks as if she'd rolled in blood and danced on top of her enemy's corpse.

Yeesh.

"Ah did what had to be done!"

"Oh yes," Sekhmet rolls her eyes and finishes wrapping up the grumbling Guardian. "I'm sure rushing off without backup and single-handedly getting into a fight with a pack of Mirrors, outside of our borders, mind you, was absolutely necessary."

The sarcasm goes right over Haemon's head, and the Guardian dragon beams. "Glad ye agree wit' me!"

"I! Do! Not!" Sekhmet smacks her clipboard on Haemon's forehead in time with each word, the first smack earning a yelp. "Make no mistake, you blood-thirsty fiend! I do not agree with your nonsense!"

"Ack! 'Met, me love, must ye hit me with that?" Haemon barely manages to dodge a fourth smack, and bounds away toward the front of the willow. "Ah'll see ya later, when ya feel a little more forgiving, aye?"

"Don't plan on it!" Is the only reply Haemon gets, but she laughs nonetheless and blows a kiss toward the frustrated Veilspun.

"Love ya too, mah dear!"

Sekhmet huffs and begins to clean up after her patient, her faithful assistant Argus helping with a flutter of his beautiful feathers. Honestly, what would she have to give to get her mate to stop running into battle willy-nilly?


Written: 7/30/2021