Day 64, Public Channel

[whattaprick]

[ After the Ringmaster's finished kicking everyone out and the tent arrangements are more or less settled... ]

So, I'm up. [ Short and to the point. ] Heard people were yelling at my nightrunners. You wanna yell about it some more, you can come yell at me.

[ That's it, that's the post. ]

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[atouts]

[ Childermass almost moves towards them, but he stops himself short of doing so. Lambert won't appreciate help steadying himself, nor will Celandine be too inclined to let someone other than her actual person touch her right now, or so he must assume.

It means he's left to stand back helplessly, hands up, but going nowhere. ]

We'll never know. [ Chances are she may not have, but that's a mystery now. ] And that's something she must make amends for on her own part but it doesn't absolve you of your own trespasses.

[whattaprick]

[ It’ll take Lambert a few moments to respond, panting for breath, hardly able to hear Childermass over the roar of blood in his own head. Celandine is staring him down, refusing to let go, but the shock of pain is grounding, even almost calming. The sort of punishment he keeps expecting, but hasn’t gotten. ]

Apologies are useless. [ Is what he says, finally, voice calmer than before. ] They don’t fix anything. They don’t change anything.

[ He looks up, and Celandine disengages, her teeth and the fur around her mouth stained red as the blood begins to drip from Lambert’s hand. ]

I’ll fight on her orders. I’ll die on her orders. I’ll do better. If that’s not good enough for her... [ Lambert shakes his head, jerkily, but he doesn’t finish, looking away instead. ]

[atouts]

[ What else can he say to that? If he's already made up his mind on it, it's pointless to push the point. Worse would be using their relationship as leverage and so, while it does cross his mind, it's also immediately dismissed. Childermass isn't so manipulative as to fall to that.

In the end, that just means he has to sigh and lower his hands, watching Lambert for a second or two longer before his attention dips down to the polecat and the bleeding knuckle. ]

Then let us hope that will be enough.

[ He goes on to pull a handkerchief — shabby and mostly grey from use at this point — from his pocket, moving to step closer to the witcher and offer it in lieu of anything better suited for sopping up blood. He won't immediately do that himself, though, looking back up again to see if either Lambert or Celandine will even let him close enough to. ]

[whattaprick]

[ Forcing the issue with Lambert is rarely productive. Later, maybe, with time to calm down, a chance to prove himself in ways that don’t require flinging himself at the Ringmaster’s mercy in a display that he imagines would certainly invite scorn rather than respect, he’ll come around.

For now, it’s too soon. But both Lambert and Celandine look at Childermass, eyes half-lidded, before Lambert sullenly extends his injured hand, the other still cradling Celandine to his chest. ]