As much as Dasha wanted to rush straight to Noonin and Youna's place, she forced herself to slow down, taking a quiet, round-about route that led through the labyrinthine back alleys of the city. Already, every time she passed a person, she could see them turn to stare at her wings. Avar did not live long past losing them. Not usually.

The weight of the glances, no matter how brief, was starting to build a phantom pressure that crawled up her back and pulsed through her aching wings. The towering walls tightened around her as the world blurred by faster and faster. 

Dasha tried not to think about it. It was stupid. She had made it all the way down the mountain. So much time had passed. Why was this happening now? 

So stupid. 

She turned yet another corner, slumping against the rough alley wall, sitting in the dirt. Old narrow places like this, too inconvenient to modernize with concrete or cobblestone. It was quieter here, away from streets and people and prying eyes. Dasha hugged her knees, gasping for air. Too bright. Everything was too bright, even in the shaded alleyway. She squeezed her eyes shut, and colorful stars spiraled before the sightless void of her vision.

That was worse. She blinked her eyes open again.

Leaning her head back, she lazily watched the iridescent sliver of sky through the narrow gap between the rooftops. The distant shape of an Avar glided high above them before vanishing again. 

Dasha would never fly again.

Maybe it was because the others were safe now. Noonin and Fia were safe. She could let go. Let everything that had been shoved down tide over her and overflow, drowning her in an overwhelming ocean. Let it all just sweep her away. Why do anything anymore? It was over. There was nothing left. She could just...

Drift away. Fade. Sleep.

Dasha's eyes grew heavy. She was beyond tired. Down to the hollow core of her bones. Down to her soul. She was too tired to even think. The world melted, simplifying into light and dark blobs. 

"Dasha..."

A voice. Faint. Distant. Close. Warm. The smell of chewing moss and spice ash.

Krell?

"-Wake up!"

Dasha jolted awake, looking around wildly. But she was alone in the alleyway. And Krell was still dead. She rubbed her aching head. Right. She needed to see to getting his body returned, his loved ones notified, and for that matter, she couldn't abandon Fia's aunt. They had both agreed to try and stay alive together.

Dasha clambered to her feet, shivering at how close she'd come. She needed to get to Noonin's home. Now.

Dasha kept her eyes forward and her head down as she navigated out of the alleys and back into a side street. The stones were scuffed, the road was full of holes, and she could see the city wall looming nearby. The cheaper areas, ofen damaged and at greater risk from monsters, were next to the walls. A ragged man begging for spare change wrinkled his nose when he saw her, turning to walk in the opposite direction. The air smelled like burnt trash and rotting mold. A small six legged animal skittered wildly past her, barking in the streets. 

Yep. This was home too. 

Not being able to fly up to the Avar spires was no great loss. As a plague-wing, Dasha would never have been allowed up there anyways. But to not be able to fly...

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the thoughts, as she hopped over a muddy ditch, looking for Noonin's house.

"Eh? Dasha? Is that you girl- Oh!"

Dasha turned to face an elderly Avar woman. Bold red streaks threaded through her iridescent green wings as pale grey eyes squinted from her sunken face.

"Auntie Jorae!" She whistled, trying to cheerfully ignore the older woman's growing expression of horror as she took it the state of Dasha's wings.

Jorae wasn't truly her aunt. Terms such as that were much more loosely used among the Avar.

"Ai, girlie, what- How-" Jorae opened and closed her mouth several times, practically speechless. 

"Talk and walk?" Dasha suggested, feeling more awkward by the second. "I need to get to Youna's. Noonin's returned too."

Jorae shook herself out, sending flecks of light scattering off of her leathery wings. "Right you are. Onwards then."

Dasha noted to herself that Jorae's accent was rather like Fia's, even if the way she spoke wasn't. She would have to ask her about it later, no matter how touchy or tight-lipped Jorae was about her past. It might give them clues on where to search for Fia's living kin. 

At least they could discount the mountain nomads, that way of speaking was very strong and distinct, so much so that some of it had rubbed off on Noonin from being around Dasha for so long, something that he found a bit embarrassing, but which Youna had found hilariously adorable. Oddly enough, they could also discount the city, as neither Jorae, nor Fia, spoke with that particular lilt. 

...Or she could simply ask Fia's aunt for the information when the woman showed up again. Hopefully sooner rather than later. Dasha couldn't help but be worried for her.

And besides, she still wanted that explanation.

The two Avar women slowly walked in silence for some time. So much for the 'talk' part of 'talk and walk'.

After the fifth time they'd passed someone who openly gaped at Dasha's wings, the older woman tugged the knot of her shawl loose, draping the threadbare garment over Dasha's shoulders.

"Oh, I couldn't-"

"My girl, I'm not so blind yet! I know it's bothering you." 

Jorae fussed over arranging the oversized patchwork shawl so that it hid the better part of Dasha's wings, clucking softly as she did.

Dasha couldn't protest for long. Even though she was used to stares, she did feel better now that something was protecting her. Plague-wings tend to get 'glance and pretend not to see' stares, not outright 'what even are you' stares, and she couldn't say that she liked the change.

"So how have things been round here then?" Dasha finally asked, as the older woman finished fiddling with the shawl, and they resumed their walk. 

"Ach, same as, same as." Jorae waved a dismissive hand, cracked and yellowed claw tips gleaming dully beneath the harsh sunlight. "They've gone and put out a call for recruiting more contractors- Monster hunting types. Lot of young brave fools, think they can make a name for themselves that way. Bah. Leave it to the guards and the big professional companies, least they've got enough money and training invested in them to not die over it." 

She shook her head, a soft clucking sound coming from her mouth. "Speaking of going off to monster territory..."

Dasha let out a sharp hiss, before she could think. She winced apologetically. "Sorry. Didn't mean to-"

"Ah fine! Be that way!" Jorae crossed her arms, grumbling for several minutes while Dasha stammered out an apology, face growing warmer by the second. One simply did not hiss at one's elders. Not among the Avar.

Finally, Jorae relented. "But only because I know something awful must have happened to the three of you up there."

Dasha bit her tongue, staring at the ground.

Jorae looked at her curiously. "Say, you haven't mentioned Krell yet. Is he at his cousins or with Noonin?"

"No." She murmured, voice barely audible. 

It was different now. Now she had to tell everyone that had once known him...

"Well then speak up girlie, where is he-" 

Jorae's voice faltered as the pieces clicked for her. 

"Oh. Oh, sorrows of the ancient one. I'm sorry girl."

"S'all right." Dasha mumbled, still staring at the ground because they both knew that it wasn't. 

At this point, any further attempts at conversation had been butchered, hacked into little pieces, sliced into fine powder, and scattered to the sixteen winds. The two women were silent all the way to Noonin and Youna's house.

Noonin and Youna's house, in true Mora fashion, was a hole in the ground. A very small hole, with a barely raised rim of dirt to mark it, and a stone post indicating the address, but the sandy earth around the entrance was neatly maintained. Jorae muttered something about being far too old for this, as they tucked back their wings and squeezed down the claustrophobically tight tunnel. 

Dasha rapped at the stone arch that indicated the proper entry into the home underground, politely waiting for someone to invite them in. 

Past the stone, there was a neat sandy room, small and bare, and a twisting hallway beyond. It was dim, only light filtering from the tunnel above them, but to the Avar and the Mora, that was normally no obstacle. 

Dasha pretended not to notice Jorae squinting occasionally. 

Finally, they heard soft steps shuffling from the hallway, and a Mora with sandy brown scales stepped into the room, a tight smile crinkling her lips and wrapping around her watery pink eyes.

"Enter and be welcomed into our hall and home." Youna dipped her head, gesturing them both inside. 

Dasha dipped her head as she stepped over the stone boundary. 

"Hello Youna. I expect that Noonin's already returned?" 

The Mora woman nodded curtly. 

"Yes... Yes they both are here."

Jorae arched an eyebrow. "Both? Who else is-"

She was cut off by the thin whistle of an Avar child, and her eyes widened. 

"Dasha, what-"

But Dasha was already gone, down the hallway and further into the underground house. Youna would understand.