"Eh, Ariel can have the next pick. Just make it a good one, ok?"

"Why of course Master Phillip! Do you doubt my choices in the culinary world?"

The happy rounds of mirth and joy were cut short when Amy excused herself to the restroom. Ariel frowned as her gaze followed the other girl with intent. Why couldn't Amy tell Phillip? She knew that the boy meant good and so would not hesitate to treat her wounds and counsel her properly. She felt so...helpless. And she hated it.

"Master, why don't you find some supplies in the pantry? I'll wait here for Miss Jones."

"Well alright then."

As the eye-patched boy left to go to the pantry, which was really just a huge closet packed with ingredients, Ariel waited patiently for Amy until the other girl returned. She kept a close eye on the arm she knew was bandaged and her frown became deeper.

"Amy, you need to be treated soon! You can't keep going on like this...at least let me apply some medicine. I don't want you to end up like...never mind. Come on, let me put some proper lotions on it."