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[withintenfeet]

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[talesuntold]

Maggie folds herself into a chair. "Tea later, maybe. In the meantime, I would like to drink my feelings about being left behind again. ...If you're still sure you don't mind babysitting in case I wind up an angry drunk wolf. Or transform and start howling, or something. Not that that isn't a valid coping mechanism, but I'd prefer to do it in the Enclosure, or at least out on deck, like a considerate neighbor."

[withintenfeet]

His sympathetic grimace shifts into something gently wry as he shakes his head. "I honestly don't. For a long time a lot of my neighbours were druids."

A moment later, when he realises she probably doesn't have the context for that explanation, "They can also turn into wolves whenever they like, at least if they've seen one before."

[talesuntold]

Maggie laughs softly. "Well, at least I came to the right place."

She pulls a bottle of tequila from her bag, because even though she won't even make a dent in it, just a few sips at her lowered tolerance (the bottle will be drunk mostly by Iris, she's sure), she wanted something with a kick. Something she could feel going down. No mellow red wine today.

"I brought enough baggage about losing people with me. And the thing that eats at me the most is... I have a girlfriend with a ship that could take me anywhere and anywhen. Transportation is sorted. But until I have a deal safely in hand, this is it. I can't even promise visits; my virus is airborne back home, and the only reason it isn't here is weird Barge magic. I visit anyone, or anyone visits me, I doom their whole world. So every time someone I love leaves absolutely guts me. And then I feel guilty because my inmate feels guilty, and he has enough damn pressure on him already without me adding to it."

[withintenfeet]

His expression is already sympathetic, but it strengthens into a grimace by the end; it's hard, knowing your pain can worsen someone else's, someone you're responsible for.

There are two lives he remembers, now, where he tried to be strong for Elias. He did well enough in the first, but the latest, in this port - well, there's a reason he's reaching over to grab his own bottle.

"The Barge is harder on him than most of us." There's an aimless, helpless frustration in his voice. "And it isn't really anyone's fault, except maybe the Admiral's." Even then, his tone lacks the harshness it once would have had. He's starting to believe the Admiral really is doing his best, and that does matter even when it falls short.

"I think - venting like this, with other people, is probably the best thing you can do." It's certainly a healthier option than he's ever taken.