Rest comes as short, exhausted naps for Nicora and the others. The newly-minted woman learns that there can be too much of a good thing, and that parts can become extremely sensitive after awhile – which at least makes her realize just what Snow has to go through in her peculiar profession. But right now, Snow is tending to Rose… and Nicora's short rest is interrupted by the familiar flare of Snow's power of arousal – only this time, it's not aimed at the Lapi buck, but at fellow exhausted Phlagaea!

"I think you've created a monster," the Yodhgorphat whispers to Nicora, in Eeee of course since there's no telling if the Lapified Snow can hear them. "Think we can escape while he's busy with the Countess?"

"I don't think I can walk fast, left alone run. I'm a little sore in the abdomen and hips right now," Nicora admits in whisper to Phlagaea. "But I'm willing to try. I need to recover enough to turn Snow back. You sneak out first and I'll follow… "

"And I thought you were the stealthy one," Phlagaea teases, and sort of squirms over to the edge of the bed and rolls to the floor, where she starts crawling towards the hallway.

Nicora realizes she'll be exposed if she crawls out of there, but that's a risk she's willing to take. Perhaps her tail will even protect her! As soon as Phlagaea has disappeared, Nicora rolls onto her hands and knees and tries to quietly crawl from the room, too.

It's a weird trek, to be sure. Nicora is practically nose-to-butt behind Phlagaea, and giving the dose of lust from Snow a moment ago and her tail being twitchy as it watches the activity behind them – well, it almost makes Nicora wish for the simple obstacles of Azrael's Reaper Maze.

Nicora only has herself to blame for this. She changed Snow. Will she never learn to leave well-enough alone? It also isn't helping that her current view isn't exactly something she minds and with the dose still playing with her mind, she has a bit of a time not trying to lick Phlagaea. It helps when she closes her eyes, at least, so she does that in bursts to keep herself under control.

Timing is everything. And at that moment, neither of the woman possess it: Phlagaea stops abruptly just as Nicora closes her eyes, causing a minor collision and a loud squeak. "Err… I think we can get to my rooms now. We're out of grabbing range," Phlagaea whispers.

Nicora doesn't answer immediately, because, well, the Eeee is kissing Phlagaea in unmentionable ways. Contact hasn't helped her fight back the desire. It takes an effort of will for her to pull herself away from Phalgaea. "Your room, right," she whispers, eyes clenched shut. "It's safer there."

It takes a moment to get their legs cooperating, and stiffly make it to Phlagaea's area. "I need a massage, or lineament oil or… no. No… this is a challenge from Gorphat, to show that even Inala isn't above Her. I'll overcome this," Phlagaea announces. Then, in a less sure voice, she adds, "… in a hot, hot bath, perhaps."

"It isn't as bad as what Gorphat made me endure for several days," Nicora notes in a whisper, "The agony in my gut was horrible." There's a small pause, then she adds, "Anyway, I will help you overcome it, I promise. A nice bath, am massage, whatever you want." Then Nicora thinks about what she wants, thanks to Snow and has to shake her head.

"Oh, speaking of that, do you have your offering to Gorphat?" Phlagaea asks, as she opens the door to her room.

"I should, somewhere. I tucked it into my bodice earlier," Nicora admits, looks down, and finds it waiting still in her star burst scarred cleavage. "Yep, I have it," she says now that they're safe in Phlagaea's room. She sits back on her butt and lets out a long sigh of relief.

"I guess even Snow couldn't figure out how to get one of those unhooked," Phlagaea giggles, and gingerly sits on the edge of her bed. "So… this other Lapi you found: is he crazy like Snow?"

"No. He lets you rest in between and has creams that soothe aches in certain places," Nicora admits as she carefully pulls the vial out and lays it on the dresser. "And Snow has no experience with underwear, so … it gave her problems," Nicora says, grinning. It's no problem for her though as she reaches back and undoes the eyelets that release her from its confines. She slides it off and says nearly blissfully, "It feels so good to get that off, having things bound up for long gets uncomfortable. Particularly when, ah, aroused."

"It made you look like Mave," Phlagaea notes, and picks up the vial. "When did you want to do the Ceremony of Gifts?" she asks.

Nicora scoots over and lays her head in Phlagaea's lap (convenient, since the Yodhgorphat is on the bed and she's on the floor!). "Anytime you are able to help me, beautiful," Nicora purrs up at Phlagaea. "It's called the Ceremony of Gifts? Is more than just one thing given?"

"Well… it's not like an exchange of gifts," Phlagaea notes, and taps on Nicora's nose. "We can probably get started during the bath."

Nicora, be-tapped, starts nosing Phlagaea in tender areas. "Good. I'm not sure I could survive another gift from your Mistress," she teases.

"You're clearly not as sore as you let on," Phlagaea purrs, and then nudges Nicora's head out of her lap so she can stand up and head to the bathroom. "Is your tail going to your head?" she asks teasingly.

"I'm just captivated by the High Priestess of Gorphat," Nicora claims as she pushes herself up to her feet finally. "Is that so wrong?" she teases right back, then lightly swats Phlagaea's backside and heads into the bathroom!

Despite all the giggling, tickling, pinching and other distractions, they do manage to get the big sunken bath filled with hopefully soothing warm water. "What happens if your tail is underwater?" Phlagaea suddenly thinks to ask. "It can't drown or shrivel up can it?"

"No. Why, do you want to hold it?" Nicora says with a giggle and lightly splashes Phlagaea with water from the tub. "It doesn't need to breathe, which means it can go underwater or be tucked away safely."

"So it can't be used to blow bubbles or squirt water then?" The Yodh almost sounds disappointed, but then she smiles and wades into the bath, making happy sounds. "Ohhhh… yeah. This helps."

Nicora follows Phlagaea into the tub and mimics the Yodhgorphat's reaction. "Yes, this is nice. Tell me something? Does Gorphat approve when people find ways to ease her challenges so that they better endure them? she asks. The next sounds from Nicora are those of bliss as she lowers herself into the water and the heat embraces her. She absently fishes her tail out and lifts it up, draping it on the edge of the tub.

"Well, that depends," Phlagaea notes. "If they come up with ways on their own, that's fine. But if they're granted them by another Kindly One, it's seen as an usurpation of Gorphat's blessings."

"And what happens in the latter case?" Nicora asks as she reaches for some of the soap. Once she has it, she slides over to Phlagaea and motions for her to turn around.

The pregnant priestess offers her back to Nicora, and says, "Oh… she usually gives them something more… challenging. Sometimes maybe too challenging."

"That sounds awful," Nicora admits and starts soaping up Phlagaea's bat. Inwardly, she feels a little worried, but hopefully it is needless. "So, tell me about this Ceremony of Gifts?" she asks, "I do need to thank Gorphat for her challenge. As horrid as it was, it had value."

"Well, that's what you need to tell Her," Phlagaea says, closing her eyes. "Err, the part about how it helped you, not the 'it was horrid' aspect. Gorphat's gifts are not horrid, but are given out of love."

"You're saying Gorphat loves me?" Nicora asks as she works the soap into Phlagaea's back, making sure to massage tired muscles as she does so.

"Oh… not like that," Phlagaea says with a giggle, shifting her wings as Nicora massages. "She loves giving the gifts."

"So… try not to insult the gift," she adds.

"So, she likes making people suffer," Nicora concludes from that. She sets the soap aside and uses her hands to cup water and rinse off Phlagaea's back. "I have to admit, having spent time as a woman, that a woman's body is far more elegant than a man's. Subtle curves and reactions."

"You never appreciated that about women as a man?" Phlagaea asks, sounding shocked. "And the Kindly Ones can be forgiven for causing a little suffering here and there: they started out as slaves, after all."

"I never noticed how nice it would be to have," Nicora corrects, then nips the edge of Phlagaea's ear. "So, how do I do the ritual? How does the blood I saved work into it?" she asks.

"Mmmmm… what?" Phlagaea asks. "Oh, the ceremony!" She looks around, and grabs a soap dish, after dumping out the soap. "First you need a vessel," she says, setting the dish on the side of the tub. "Then you do an invocation to Gorphat, and add the offering to the vessel."

"Invocation. Where I place my hands at the base of her idol, bow, and call her name?" Nicora clarifies. "What does the blood signify? That I passed through the challenge?"

"Well, anything that comes out of you or falls off as a result of Gorphat's blessing belongs to Her, so you have to offer it back up," Phlagaea notes. "But… yeah, the invocation could work like that. It's pretty flexible, and the pilgrim is expected to put on a good show about it. But in practice… uh… well the soap dish works."

"So, after the bath I just use that? Or do you wish to soak a while and let me go perform the ritual while you rest?" Nicora asks as she fetches her tail and uses it, and its tongue, to tickle Phlagaea a little.

"Eep!" Phlagaea reacts. "Oh, I still have to be with you for it, to properly interpret the results!" she insists. "You can do it here in the bath if you want."

"I have to go get the vial, then," Nicora admits, "Unless you brought it?"

"And … there will be results? What kind of results?" Nicora asks.

"Of course I brought it," Phlagaea notes, pointing to the small glass vial atop a pile of towels.

"Well, ideally there will be results," the priestess notes. "You don't want to have gone through all that just to be ignored, right?"

Nicora slides away from Phlagaea to go and get the vial with the dark and slimy liquid within. She picks it up carefully, then slides back to sit before the soap dish. "Well, no. It was quite the trial, so I hope it will be for something," she admits. There Nicora ponders on what she'll say … and what to do with her tail to keep it out of trouble while she grovels to Gorphat. Given the pain she just endured … Nicora decides on something somewhat appropriate. She takes a minute to … tuck … her tail into a sore, yet rather prepared, place. The discomfort will remind her to not offend Gorphat.

"Oh wow, that's handy!" Phlagaea notes. "Does it keep wiggling and stuff though?"

Nicora's head tilts and she shudders. "It squirms a lot," she admits, ears twitching, "But it reminds me of the painful cramping, so… " She lets out a breath then places her hands before the soap dish and bows her head low, her nose almost touching the water. "Glorious Gorphat," she recites gently, "Goddess that makes Her people strong through trial, I return to your bosom to thank you." Nicora draws in a breath and considers her words carefully. "Through your kiss and blessing of my womb, you taught me how to be a woman. You taught me of my new body and all that it can be. You opened my mind to the moods befitting a woman. Without you, I would not have quickly accepted what I have become; embraced what I have become. I understand now the honor you bestowed upon me when you graced me with your kiss that inspired my womb to teach me so much."

"That's very good," Phlagaea says. "Makes me sorry I missed out on cramps and stuff." She then takes the vial and opens it, pouring it out into the soap dish. "Nicora offers this, the fruits of her blessing," the priestess recites, sounding very different than she normally does. "That which flows from Gorphat returns to Gorphat. Blood is the proof of life, the measure of strength and health, the messenger of disease and affliction, and the currency of the soul." After it's been poured out, she dips her forefinger into it, and with some reverence paints the symbol of Gorphat onto Nicora's forehead.

"Please accept the blessed sloughing of my womb as it is Yours. The blood of my menarche; my transformation," Nicora recites and bows her head slightly as Phlagaea's finger traces the symbol of the wound upon her forehead. "This daughter opens her heart to you for all that you have taught her. Thank you for honoring me and I pray that by enduring it I have honored you."

Nicora feels her forehead tingle where the symbol has been marked. The amount remaining in the bowl glows briefly, before fading to a lighter, clearer red color that it was originally.

Nicora's breath draws in quickly, then swallows. She isn't sure what that means but something happened … and that means Gorphat heard her prayer!. That feeling of utter terror, such as when Gorphat smiled at her that night, squirms within her. Or … maybe it is just her tail. She looks to Phlagaea, unsure if she should say more … or what to do?

Phlagaea is beaming, and gives Nicora a hug! "That went wonderfully! How do you feel? Any sudden abdominal pain?"

"My forehead tingled," Nicora admits, "But I felt nothing in my womb." She reaches back down and eases her tail free, just to be sure it doesn't feel any different."

It looks a bit… well, it'll probably wash off, but it's certainly a reminder that Snow is still out there… hopefully passed out by now.

"Now you just have to drink the wine," Phlagaea notes, indicating the red liquid in the soap dish. "Well, hopefully it's wine."

"I feel the same," Nicora says, "Is that good or bad?" She then picks up the dish and sniffs it to see if it smells like wine or not.

It does smell a bit alcoholic, but unlike any wine she's familiar with. Although it might be some sort of blood wine, of course.

Nicora swallows nervously, then lifts the dish to her lips and tilts it back, letting whatever it is flow into her mouth. She doesn't swallow immediately, curious if she can identify the taste.

It doesn't taste bad… but it's definitely unique, and with a definite blood flavor – which shouldn't be surprising given the source.

No turning back, Nicora decides. She swallows the liquid. The Eeee then licks the dish clean in case wasting anything from a Goddess would be frowned up. And then … Nicora waits to see if anything happens.

There's a bit of a buzz… and a voice whispers into Nicora's ear, saying, "You did well… but I feel that my dear Sister, Inala, took the majority of your focus. So I will leave you with another gift, to remind you that pleasure is fleeting and ultimately just a distraction."

"Another gift?" Nicora thinks, her breathing drawing to a stop momentarily. "What have you blessed me with, Glorious Gorphat?"

The buzz begins to fade… and there's no reply to Nicora's query.

Phlagaea is very giddy though, practically bouncing as she hugs Nicora from the front.

Nicora blinks a few times. "I heard Gorphat," she admits to Phlagaea, "And she gave me a new gift. But, I do not know what." She does hug Phlagaea, though simply because her happiness does oddly make her feel a little better.

"She must have her eye on you then," Phlagaea claims. "Isn't that great?"

"Great," Nicora agrees with a little less enthusiasm. She feels over her chest and tail to see if they feel any different at all. She then also realizes that Gorphat didn't say she removed her first blessing, either.

Nothing feels out of place, at least externally. But there's no telling what other effects that wine might have, in time.

Nicora reaches down and feels herself gently, checking to see if it feels any different at all. "She also didn't say she released me from her first blessing. Does that mean every month will have a week of agony?" she asks Phlagaea, eyes wide.

"Oh, you shouldn't worry about stuff like that," Phlagaea says. "You're young and strong!"

"That's a yes, then, isn't it?" Nicora says, her ears folding back in worry. She twitches, unsure of just what to do … so does the first thing she can think of, she kisses Phlagaea. "Well, I won't be a woman forever, so I can survive this a bit longer," she admits when her lips release.

"Oooo," Phlagaea says, and then kisses back. "You promised me a massage too," she reminds.

Nicora leans in, pressing up against the pregnant priestess. This allows Nicora to reach around her and begin massaging her spine and the points where her wings join to her body. It also gives her access to nibbling and kissing along Phlagaea's neck as she tries to forget about what she heard a few minutes ago. "So how do I look with the mark of the wound upon my forehead?" she murmurs in-between her nibbles.

"Well, it's hard to see, because you're so dark," Phlagaea admits in a purr. "But I can always paint you again like I did before… "

As she works, Nicora begins to notice something else; her right forearm is feeling a bit hungry, since she drained all of the energy from it to transform Snow earlier.

"You could," Nicora agrees and nibbles a bit more. "Or at the center of my starburst, perhaps?" she suggests as her hands slide /down/ to massage gently at her lower back. She then /frowns a bit and lifts her right arm up and out of the water to get a good look at it.

It's not withering or anything, but there's no way Nicora could disguise it now if she wanted. The palm feels tense.

Nicora looks at her palm worriedly. "I hate to cut this short," she admits, "I really want to spend more time with you. But … I need to go feed the shadow. It is starting to … warn me."

"Hmm? Oh… right… " Phlagaea realizes. "It's pretty early in the morning, so… maybe the kitchen has a fresh hog already. Or were you going to see Mave too? She's probably still asleep… "

"Feed the shadow first, then Mave," Nicora says, "And do you have any clothing I can borrow? All mine is back in the other chamber and I dare not risk the Lapi… "

"I'm sure my dressing gown will fit," Phlagaea says with a giggle. "It's green!"

Nicora giggles right back. "I suppose that is better than borrowing your bandages," she says.

"Oooo, there's a thought… " the priestess says, getting a very Babelite look in her eye. "We have to dry each other off first though."

Nicora slides out of the water, feeling quite a bit better than she did, even though she may have something terrible waiting for her in the future. "Or maybe the bandages are an option," she says as she offers her left hand to Phlagaea. "I'll have to dry you one-handed, but … I don't mind."

"I'm not sure Rose would approve of you parading around in her body wearing just some bandages," Phlagaea mentions as she takes the hand and steps out of the water.

"I can put your gown over it," Nicora offers, "I've always wanted to try the bandages. Plus, if I am under Gorphat's eye, she may approve?"

"You've really wanted to try the bandages?" Phlagaea asks with a big smile on her face. "Oooo, it'll be fun to wrap you up!" She tosses a towel to Nicora.

Nicora catches the towel and smiles. "A little, yes. They look so … interesting on you. And … fun to peel off," she says. She holds her right arm behind her back now as she approaches Phlagaea and begins to gently dry her off (and feel over her some at the same time. Fringe benefit… )

While her right arm behaves, it's difficult to control her tail at the same time. This is solved when Phlagaea starts drying Nicora, and really buffs the tail's scales to a shine.

The tail buffing naturally makes Nicora shiver a bit. The sensation is muted, but it is there. "You can polish my tail any time," she teases and glances over her shoulders, then flutters her eyes at Phlagaea. She then reaches back with her left hand and caresses Phlagaea's cheek. Nothing is said, Nicora just smiles gently and honestly.

"So… shall we wrap things up now?" Phlagaea asks teasingly.

"I am at your mercy," Nicora says to Phlagaea, smiles, and saunters out of the room, her hip roll in full sway as she goes. Her tail even manages to sway back and forth fluidly. The rubbing on her backside, though, Nicora still hasn't gotten completely used to.

Phlagaea works quickly, since she doesn't want Nicora's arm to get too hungry. She first wraps for modesty, which also involves wrapping the tail. Then comes the 'clothing' part, as she wraps Nicora a bit more decoratively – and perhaps provocatively. "Do you want your face covered at all?" she asks.

"This feels very restrictive," Nicora admits and marvels at everything on her body feeling so … snug. The question, though, gets her attention back. She thinks about this, then nods once, "Wrap it too, please. I want to know how it all feels."

It feels strange. She's never worn anything like it, and it severely affects how she can move her head, jaw and ears. But Phlagaea is careful not to cover her nose, mouth or eyes.

"This feels very strange and yet somehow comforting," Nicora admits through minimal movement of her jaw. "How do I look to you?" she asks and turns once just because.

"Ghastly!" Phlagaea says in approval. "Like a burn victim, almost. Just a very clean one."

"Oh, so I look like you used to," Nicora teases and nudges Phlagaea with a wing. "Let me borrow your gown and I'll go feed the hand. I can feel the shadow getting squirmy."

The gown fits, the hem almost brushing the floor, and there's a belt to keep it from flapping open as well. Phlagaea gives Nicora a kiss on the cheek (or on the bandage covering the cheek at least) and says, "Now, don't talk to any strange Lapis and be sure to eat all your breakfast."

"I know, I will need the energy later when I tie you to that bed and spend a few hours devouring you too," Nicora says with a completely serious tone. Still, she does wink to Phlagaea and returns the light peck on her cheek. "I'll be back later," she says and heads out the door.

It's a good thing Nicora's hair is bleached white, or else everyone she encountered would fear that the Countess had suffered some sort of terrible accident. The kitchen staff assures her that the hogs are on the way, and send a runner down to make sure there's an extra one. She gets to hear them talk about bacon, and how the fat is important for just about every other aspect of cooking it seems.

Nicora waits quietly by rocking back and forth on her toes and rubbing her left thumb on the palm of her right hand, feeling the flesh for movement. She also can't help herself and thinks on her body and all that she feels. She keeps trying to see if anything feels different, the worry of what she was gifted coming back.

Whatever the gift is, it isn't apparent yet. Soon enough, two hogs are hauled into the kitchen, with one being led off to a back room by two young girls wielding enormous knives. The other is brought before Nicora, grunting and snorting and eying any fingers that look like they might get in biting range.

"Hello, breakfast," Nicora teases the hog as she circles it and wiggles the fingers of her right hand. When she reaches its haunches, her hands darts out and grabs onto the hog. She feels herself 'let go' of the shadow so that it can consume the hog and awaits the rush of pleasure from the act.

At least the hand isn't so starved that it can't do things properly. The shadow envelopes the hog, and absorbs it cleanly – leaving no withered, empty bone-bag behind. The kitchen head nods approval at this. Anything that doesn't leave a mess behind is fine by her, it seems.

"So, do you have any bacon?" Nicora asks after the shiver of pleasure from consuming the hog passes. She reaches down and plays with her exposed navel with her middle finger of her right hand. This is, of course, to make it easy to flow the shadow into her body, up through her intestines, and into her stomach.

"Well, we have some already cured," the head cook notes, and brings Nicora to a slab of bacon, ready to be sliced and cooked. "Ah, do you want anything with it? Beans, eggs, hash, cakes… steak?"

"I mean cooked," Nicora admits, "I was going to take breakfast to Lady Mave. I need to wake her to discuss travel and a few things, so I thought I would need a peace offering." It's a good thing the bandages restrict movement, otherwise she would be twitching now that the shadow is squirming up into her. "I think she would like eggs too."

"How does she like them?" the cook asks. This being the high kitchen, it's unlikely that they've ever served Mave before. "Fried, boiled, poached, scrambled, omelet… " she starts to rattle off.

"Boiled, perhaps?" Nicora suggests as she draws her hand away from her navel, leaving behind a thin black line snaking up through the bandages and probably back down her arm to complete the link.

"Soft or hard?" the woman asks, still smiling pleasantly.

"Hard. It will be easier for me to feed them to her," Nicora says rather matter-of-factly.

The cook yells out an order using some obscure kitchen-code, and then asks what she'd like with it.

"This is entirely too complicated," Nicora thinks. She ends up trying to describe some foods similar to those that Galand fed to her (and finding that thoughts of the buck still make her feel all warm and funny inside), so as to present Mave with a decent feast should she want it.

This results in a fruit-cup, a small wedge of cheese, several strips of bacon and what might be half a roast shikk'ahn, along with the hard-boiled eggs (possibly from the same shikk'ahn).

"Thank you," Nicora tells the head cook and even curtsies to her before accepting the tray. Out Nicora goes, off to pester Mave! Of course some of the food will disappear along the way; taste for her and food for the shadow…

By the time Mave's quarters are reached, the tray does feel a bit lighter. Of course, the Yodhinala is already awake when Nicora arrives, and the remains of a fruit cup, cheese and bread, along with a cup of tea, betray that she's probably already broken her fast. "My, you are up early Nicora," she says to her guest, and notices the laden tray. "Trying to fatten me up for something?"

"Of course. I may get hungry on our trip and need to eat you," Nicora teases, "Or I was being thoughtful and bringing you breakfast for having to bother you so early on a few matters relating to our trip and other things."

Mave is also wearing a dressing gown, although it could easily double as lingerie. "Well, have a seat. I'm afraid I've already eaten though, but I appreciate the gesture," she says, and pats the edge of the bed next to her.

Nicora sets the tray on the dresser then goes to settle herself beside Mave. "I survived the menarche, it was agony," she admits to the Yodhinala, "But at least it is over. How have you been?"

"I have managed to keep myself busy," Mave notes, and then reaches over to lift the bandage covering Nicora's forehead. "The Wound," she notes, apparently not having any issue with seeing it against the dark fur. "Have you decided to change your disguise to that of a Yodhgorphat?"

"No, I offered thanks to Gorphat in hopes she would release me from her blessing that made the last week agony," Nicora admits, "This outfit is just … because I was curious, with Phlagaea, and had no clothing."

"Have you grown bored with the offerings of the Countess's wardrobe then?" Mave asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I could not get to them. The Countess was busy with Snow," Nicora admits, "And that reminds me, do you know much about Lapi bucks?"

"Lapi… bucks?" Mave asks. "Those are the male ones, yes? Lapi do not travel to Babel much, you know. I've never encountered one," she admits, and then elegantly sips her tea.

"Really? The make quite vigorous lovers. The Countess and Phlagaea will have on as consort in my absence," Nicora says. "It surprises me that you have never been with one."

The Yodh turns to give Nicora an odd look. "Why are you surprised?" she asks.

"They seem the type that would do much worship with Inala," Nicora says and shrugs. "And I think you would like them."

"Inala is worshiped by those who hope for the blessings of fertility," Mave notes. "From what I know, Lapi are naturally blessed with fecundity already. What do you find so endearing about them?"

"They are gentle and caring," Nicora explains, "And have a touch that can relax anyone who is nervous and make them feel special. And have seemingly endless endurance."

"Hmm," Mave goes, looking thoughtful. "Well, I will wish to examine this consort then before we leave. And what is the Countess doing with my… well, not an acolyte, but I am teaching her things."

"Snow consented to be shifted to a Lapi and well, lacks control of certain instincts. When she exhausts, I will sneak up and change her back," Nicora admits, "And as for the consort, I have examined him already. I believe him quite fitting."

"You are hardly an expert," Mave points out. "And may have been swayed by an overly emotional state of mind. You aren't afraid of letting me meet him, are you?"

"Of course not," Nicora says, "That would be silly. Why would I be afraid of my personal Yodhinala seeing him?" She grins lightly (the bandages don't allow for much more).

"You like this man?" Mave asks, and then leans in with a grin. "You've indulged with him, haven't you?"

"Seven times in twelve hours," Nicora finds herself admitting. "I really enjoyed it."

"And you without any proper female training," Mave notes. "I look forward to meeting this person. In the meantime… I intend to travel light, purchasing clothing or supplies as needed once we reach Chronotopia."

"I am not fecund, so it was safe," Nicora notes, then shrugs and adds, "Well, we need to head the opposite direction from Chronotopia. I know of two places we can stay on the way. We need to reach Blackshire, where I can return a stolen necklace, then catch the train to Chronotopia. Will you be okay with this?"

"I have never been on the train, so if you know where to catch it, we will go there," Mave agrees.

"The journey will be rough, though I do not think as bad as the one to the Well," Nicora says, "Is there anything on the journey you feel you need to prepare me for?"

"You have traveled before," Mave points out. "I do not foresee any difficulties. You will hunt, of course, and will pack rations for myself. Is there anything you wish to warn me about?"

"I'm not sure you need to worry about it, but in the prayer to Gorphat, I heard a voice saying that Inala's involvement with my trial meant she needed to show me that pleasure is fleeting and a distraction," Nicora admits, "Do you have any idea what that means? Or what she might intend?"

"Some minor, irritating affliction I imagine," Mave notes. "You should probably enjoy yourself as much as possible before we leave."

"Then I expect you to teach me 'proper' female technique so that next time I see the Lapi, I will be better," Nicora notes and lightly nudges Mave.

"Perhaps as time permits during our journey," Mave offers with a grin. "We will be bringing maps this time, I hope. Ones that do not talk?"

"Of course we will," Nicora says, "Though we will travel as light as possible. I am not nearly as strong now, so we will have to make due. And … I suppose I should be leaving you to the rest of your morning. I'll give the extra food to Snow, once I save her from herself. And return Phlagaea's bandages and get some real clothing." She leans over and kisses Mave's cheek, saying, "Thank you for the talk. We'll finalize supplies the day we leave. Which … will be very soon!"