Ketvia dropped her hold on the demon-get when he started screaming hoarsely in genuine terror, whirling around and ready for whatever battle her currently human-sized body could take on, but she saw nothing that could possibly have frightened him so badly. When she turned back to him, the demon-get was curled on the ground, still voicing that horrid keening, trying to hide under his scrap of fur and cloth, covering his face with his hands. A cursory attempt at tugging him to his feet failed miserably; he was a dead weight, shuddering and screaming through his hands.

"What the-- what's the matter with him?" Ketvia demanded of Chiya, the only one who might possibly be able to explain, spinning to face the young Light, who was cringing in a pale echo of the demon's reaction.

"The light," she managed, barely audible over the sounds of terror and, Ketvia discerned now, pain. Chiya hurried out behind them and wrapped her arms around the thing as if she might protect him. "He's never been outside in his whole life, he's blind and afraid. Shhh, sweetling, shhh, child, it's all right. You're all right, it can't hurt you."

Disgusted by the demon-child and embarrassed by the show of motherliness from her friend, Ketvia turned sharply and stalked away from them both, out further into the unforgiving, and supposedly frightening, sunlight. It didn't frighten her any, but who knew what took the bravery out of a thing like their new charge? Ketvia was already cursing the weakness that made her give in to Chiya's request, but she couldn't go back on it now, not unless the thing tried to harm one of them. Then, hopefully, Chiya would forget about this quest to heal whatever his ills were and let Ketvia kill him, like she should have done when she first saw him. With only a momentary twinge of guilt, she gave her frustration its head, let it bury the tiny compassionate impulse that agreed with Chiya that the kit had been wronged, and the whisper of wonder at just whether this was what the gods had brought them here for. The effort of holding onto hatred was surprisingly small. She resumed her own form again with relief and, with a growl along the lines of "I'm going to look for something for us to eat," she paced tensely away.

While the Fire dragoness disappeared among the barren rocks, Chiya held the shuddering half-breed and understood exactly what Ketvia was feeling. Half of her was completely repulsed by half of him, by the feel of his fractured mind, his disgustingly filthy hair and naked body, the magic of his half-demonic heritage. But, so far anyway, he seemed to trust her, and she could not betray that trust. There was half of him that was human, and that half deserved to be cared for until either he was well again, or they had found a guardian for him who could care for him while he could not care for himself. Finally, he was alone and afraid and very badly hurt, and Chiya simply could not refuse him what comfort and aid she might be able to offer.

Finally he grew still in her arms-- fainted, or at least asleep, at the end of his meager reserves. Chiya drew him back into the shade of the overhang and, once again large, winged, and furry, curled around him protectively and shielded him with her wings. She could count every one of his ribs, clearly see the lines of his bones under his skin, and wondered if he ever ate, and if he did, how little his captors gave him. Finding out wouldn't take more than a few moments of sifting through the layers of the memory of a normal person, but this child's mind was so strange and divided that Chiya was afraid to touch it too deeply. So, she waited, putting off what she knew would have to happen eventually just so she would know if a healing for him was even possible, and likely when she needed to learn more about him. For now, though, she could wait.

That was how Ketvia found them when she returned, carrying the carcass of some rangy antelope-like creature. Even though Ketvia hunted for them every day, the sight of the dead thing still turned Chiya's stomach, and she shuddered, looking away and shutting her eyes. Ketvia, who seemed to have regained at least the semblance of a good mood after taking out her frustration on their soon-to-be dinner, just chuckled softly and set it down, blocking the sight of it with her large body while she started a fire to cook it. Though she had very little magic of her own that she cared to use, Ketvia was a fair hand at creating a hot, clean fire, and soon the poor beast she had killed was filling the wide crevice between tendrils of jagged mountain with the scent of roasting meat. Chiya's mouth watered despite herself, but the half-blood boy didn't so much as twitch, he was so exhausted.

Moments later, Ketvia offered a fire-scoured slab of limestone with a haunch of seared antelope to Chiya. She accepted, though sighed. "I can't wait to go back to somewhere civilized," she complained softly, "where we can eat real, honest-to-Asuka meals, instead of plain, half-cooked and bloody meat."

"Hey," Ketvia snorted, pretending offense, "I don't serve anything still bloody. Not to you, anyway. What about-- that? Is he eating?"

"He should," Chiya said, looking back down at the pale body curled into a tight huddle against her flank, "but he's dead asleep, still. I don't know what waking him will do, and I think he needs the rest, anyway."

"Damn," Ketvia answered off-handedly as she turned back to her own portion. "For a minute I thought you were saying he was dead."

Glaring over at her friend's wings and back, Chiya did not deign to reply, but instead fell to eating. Primitive or not, she was hungry, and could not turn down food when it was offered. Besides, Ketvia did do a fairly good job, for all she only had a stringy buck and single open campfire to work with. For a long few moments, there were no words, as both dragons made short work of their dinner.

"I wonder if he'll make such a fuss when we try flying with him," Ketvia's voice broke the silence while they were both grooming the remains of their meal from their claws and muzzles.

"Fly with him?" Looking quickly over at her friend, Chiya wasn't sure whether she was being serious or not.

"Well, yeah," Ketvia continued, as if it were the only obvious choice-- which, in fact, it was, Chiya realized with a sinking feeling in her stomach. "If we want to get to Sanctuary before next winter, we'll have to fly, especially if we have to go at his pace-- whatever his pace might be. Probably ungodly slow, given the state of him."

Chiya sighed. "You're right... maybe... maybe we could just carry him while he slept."

"You," Ketvia corrected, casting a look of utmost disgust at the demon-child. "And then have him wide awake and ready to play while we're both trying to sleep? No, we'll have to convince him that it's all right to fly on a dragon's back."

"Maybe we can... you know... wean him up to the idea. We'll walk with him a day or two, then I can carry him while we run for a few days, and then we can try to fly with him." At Ketvia's skeptical, mulish look, Chiya quickly added, "It can't take that much longer, and besides, it would keep us from reaching dragon territory before we have to, to hold off the season in the fall."

Ketvia snorted again, but had to see the logic of the argument. "All right, you win," she grumbled. "But if he's so damn terrified of light, we won't be able to travel by day until he gets used to it. So you'd better get what rest you can before we'll need to start, without loosing the whole night. I sure will be." And with that, Ketvia stamped out the fire and draped her massive self between the rest of the world and her traveling companion, shutting her eyes and huffing out a heavy, bloody-smelling breath.

Torn between a smile and a scowl, Chiya set a few quick wards that would wake them both with wailing if they were so much as disturbed, much less taken down, and settled her head on her forepaws, shutting her own eyes. She thought she would not sleep for a long time yet, but the wear of the day's travel, the battle and slaughter, and the strain of reading the half-blooded one's tormented mind took its toll, and she fell straight into sleep.