{ "What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us."}
I knelt beside Dante, the dim light of the Mira house hearth casting a soft glow over the deep gash in his side. The scent of herbs still clung to my fingers, sharp and earthy, and I tried not to let my hands shake as I pressed the warm poultice against the wound. He winced, barely. Always too proud to show pain.
"Still breathing?" I murmured, half to myself, half to him.
His lips quirked barely a smile, more like a reflex. "I'd complain, but I think you'd just hit me to keep me quiet."
"You're lucky I didn't let you bleed out on the stones," I said, but my voice lacked bite. He knew better. My touch softened as I traced the edge of the injury, blood still fresh, still hot. "You're worse than reckless. You're stupid."
