Two more days passed, and the time drew near for Crow to meet with Penelope again. He spent most of the afternoon sparring against Simon in the woods outside their camp, both to keep his skills sharp and to test how well he was able to handle fighting with his progressing illness. Even though he knew he had told Hazel he would take it easy, he still wanted to find some way to help his companions whenever the next battle happened. It might look different now than it had before, but he wasn’t going to just sit around in the camp while they went out to defend the villagers.

After a while, Simon managed to disarm him and lowered his own blade, while Crow moved to collect his dagger, shaking out the hand the blonde thief had struck to make him drop it in the first place. “You’re slow,” he commented, breathing slightly heavier after the exertion of sparring against his leader. “Your skills haven’t deteriorated, but I can keep up with you easily now.”

“Again,” Crow panted, raising his weapons in an offensive stance. “I can do better.” Suddenly, he flinched and let out a startled yelp as he felt something hit him in the back of the head. Spinning around, he saw Hazel standing behind him, one shoe in hand and a glare of her face.

“What did I tell you about straining yourself, dumbass?” she snapped, swatting him with the shoe again in the arm.

Crow cringed and rubbed the spot on his arm where she had hit him. “It’s just a little light sparring,” he retorted, shooting her an annoyed look. “I feel fine.”

“You might feel fine now, but what about tomorrow or next week, huh?” Hazel snorted. “If you keep pushing yourself like this, you’re going to shorten your lifespan, idiot. And you,” she turned on Simon, who visibly shrank beneath her cold gaze. “I told all of you to make sure he doesn’t pull this crap, not encourage it. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Simon flushed scarlet and averted his gaze, mumbling a meek apology under his breath.

“I swear, I’m babysitting children around here…” Hazel grumbled, grabbing Crow roughly by the collar of his shirt as she stormed off towards the waterfall. “Let’s go, snake. You’re coming with me.”

“O-okay,” he blinked, stumbling after her as she dragged him along.

Once they were back in their camp, the herbalist whirled on him with an accusatory glower, “I hope you’re not still thinking about joining in the next battle after everything I told you last week.”

Crow shifted his weight but didn’t reply.

Hazel raked her fingers through her hair, letting out an exasperated groan, “Just when I thought you were starting to listen to me… What the hell, Crow? Why are you so insistent on getting yourself killed? You know I only told you to stay out of the fighting because it’s for your own good, so stop treating it like it’s some kind of punishment.”

“I agreed with you then, but things are different now,” he argued stubbornly. “I feel a lot better, and I even went through a whole sparring match with Simon without wearing myself out. Maybe the disease is slowing down, or maybe your medicine is finally working, but I don’t even feel sick anymore.”

“That’s because you’ve finally been getting some rest, moron,” she slapped a palm to her forehead. “If you go back out and fight now, you’ll undo all the good that rest has done for you. Do you really want to do that to yourself?”

Crow hesitated. “I can handle it,” he said after a moment. “I don’t plan to join in the battle as I usually do. I’m going to figure something else out that I can do that won’t be as strenuous.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?” Hazel said dryly, propping her hands on her hips.

“I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “You’ll see. I’ll think of something.”

“It’s your funeral,” the herbalist shrugged. “Whatever. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With that, she turned and headed back out of the cavern.

Crow scoffed as he watched her go. He would show her. He wasn’t going to let his illness get the best of him—not as long as he had the capability to come up with a plan to work around it. Suddenly feeling irritable and uninterested in being around the others, he picked up a bedroll and headed down the rightmost tunnel, navigating his way by memory to one of the smaller caves that laid deeper in the labyrinth. When he reached it, he unfurled the mat and laid down to take an uninterrupted nap.

--

Eventually, Crow was awoken by his growling stomach. He blinked tiredly and sat up, looking around as he took a moment to remember where he was. Climbing slowly to his feet, he rolled up the bed and carried it back to the main cavern, where he was greeted by the smell of freshly cooked chicken. All four of his companions were gathered around the clay hearth near the entrance, splitting the meat amongst each other for supper. Now in a better mood after getting some sleep, he walked over to join them.

Rikki, as always, was the first to greet him. She moved to sit down next to him as soon as he had reached them and then offered him a plate. “I got this one for you,” she said with a smile.

“Thanks,” he nodded, still a bit groggy from his nap. Ever since their conversation two days ago, things had gotten a little tenser between them, but neither one was willing to acknowledge it. Rikki was still clearly hoping he would come around and eventually choose to court her, while he was afraid of telling her the truth and popping the fragile bubble of friendship they still had left. So, they both said nothing and continued to pretend like nothing had changed between them.

Crow dug into his portion of the food, eating with a ravenous appetite. Glancing outside through the cave opening, he saw that the sun had nearly set on the horizon, meaning it was almost time for him to leave for his next meeting with Penelope. He could already feel his heartbeat quicken in excitement. It had been a full week since he had last seen her, and his desire to be with her again had grown even more insatiable than his appetite for supper. He couldn’t wait to see her again.

“Hey, Crow,” Rikki spoke up softly beside him.

He turned to see her looking up at him with a concerned frown. “Yeah?” he asked, wondering why she was suddenly acting so nervous.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea for you to meet with Penelope alone?” she went on tentatively. “I mean, what if you’re seen by a patrol? I think you should bring one of us with you, just to be safe.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said reassuringly. “We’re even closer to Myrefall now than we were before, and I’ve never had any trouble before.”

“That’s not true,” Simon spoke up. “There was one time when you were out late because you and the knight got chased by local guards.”

Crow cursed inwardly as he recalled the incident Simon was referring to—when he had been running with Penelope and they had stayed out almost until morning because she had twisted her ankle. He shot the blonde thief a subtle glare for bringing it up, and then raised a brow when he caught his indiscreet glance towards Hazel. He rolled his eyes. Of course. Simon must have just been trying to impress her by proving that he did take her instructions seriously. “That was one time, and it was just an unfortunate coincidence,” he said defensively. “It won’t happen again.”

“You can’t say that for sure,” Rikki pressed. “Let me come with you. I’ll make sure you stay safe.”

“No,” Crow shook his head. “We’ll draw less attention to ourselves if it’s just me and Penelope. Besides,” he offered her a confident grin. “Who’s the most talented thief here when it comes to avoiding capture?”

“You are,” she frowned. “But—”

“Then it’s settled,” he stood up and headed over to grab his cloak. Slinging the heavy fabric over his shoulders, he drew his hood and headed for the opening. “I’ll be back later,” he said, nodding in a curt goodbye. Without waiting for a reply, he slipped out of the cavern and began the short trip to Myrefall.