"Beautiful, even," Del responds, the words automatic as she agrees with Cyran about how the children's decorations make him look. Her own words hit her, then, and she bites her lip, watching Cyran's closed eyes as she helps him remove the drawings from his skin. How something could feel forbidden and perfectly natural all at the same time was nothing short of a mystery to her. It was a sacred sort of tenderness. It felt too good for her.

...she relished it anyway.

A sheepish chuckle bubbles out from her lips as she nods, glancing wryly off toward the kids as they busy themselves with their games and whittling and braiding. "Very clever, these darlings. I hadn't even considered what mischief they might have gotten up to when I sent them on a special mission." and she supposed that went double for Eleanor and Rhi'as; Del beams with pride for the two apprentices, a look that turns shy, even demure, as he again thanks her with such resonant warmth that she feels as though she could burst into flame.

Instead, Del fidgets with the feathers on the wing of the bird and gives him a crooked smile. If she had any resistance left in her to stop herself from melting under his appreciation, it was well and gone. "I... hmm. You're welcome. I enjoyed getting to show them something."

When he pulls out the knife she had fixed-- somehow, she still does not quite know from whence that came-- her face breaks into a wide smile, thrilled both by the knife in his hand and to perform this act together. Always...

She should be so lucky.

Working alongside him is a pleasure and a joy all its own. There's a certain domesticity to the act, of passing tools back and forth to one another, to holding the bird still so it could have the skin lifted up just enough to run the herbs beneath, to settle on and permeate the meat itself. Anticipating what the other needed, sharing smiles and quiet laughs as they move through the task. Even among all this hellfire, the chaos that surrounded them, there was a moment of serenity here that she could not refuse. If she never got her forge back, if she never slept in a bed again, then this moment would always be her home.

"That ought to do it! I think we can find some way to keep the meat cool, or perhaps salt it enough to preserve..." she muses out loud for a moment, stopping only when Cyran turned toward her with a troubled look. Del immediately turned the rest of the way towards him, her brows pressed in concern for that face, silently asking what was the matter.

It turned out, it was a fair bit.

Del falls silent as Cyran explains, elbows resting on her knees as she listens to him attentively. Her eyes never once wander-- normally, that was a mark of her scrutiny and assessment, but in this moment? Concern and care, hearing Cyran's words with an open heart and mind. Above all, though, she's... touched. Honoured he would value her opinion so highly, especially about something that was more or less his business alone. And he wanted to... move forward. With her. Walk together.

Oh, how that thought made her heart ache.

He was right, the children couldn't stay here. This was well and good as a temporary measure, and if it was one, two children, perhaps they could make it work, but with this number, in the location they were in? It would only be a matter of time before someone with bad intentions happened across them. While she was confident in her and Cyran's abilities, and that of his apprentices, she was never, ever confident enough to assume that she was better than her opponent. She isn't terribly fond of the children going to Sol City, but she can see that he isn't either, and that this was a carefully weighed decision. Not off the cuff.

Smiling, Del reaches out her hands, capturing one of his in both of her own. "I promised I would follow you into hell if it came to it, remember?" she says softly, her lips curling at the edges with fondness. She keeps her voice low to match his, trying to avoid being overheard. "I think that's well reasoned. I am not a fan of Sol City, but I can't deny that the general safety, relative to our own, isn't an enticing idea. And if I wouldn't like this person... well, I trust your judgment on that, too," she snorts soft amusement and squeezes his hand. "But I like you, and I think you have the right of it. If you're willing to make a deal with a devil, I will shake their hand too. For the kids, and for your peace of mind. I support you, no matter what."

If they were to walk this path together, then she would be prepared to go off the beaten trail as they needed. She wouldn't have it any other way.

Del looks behind him at the fire, and smiles, the scent of herbs and cooking meat filling the air. "Just about time for dinner, though. Are you hungry?"

The single word, murmured by Del, gave Cyran momentary pause. For some reason, it felt far more substantial than the rest of their teasing - she must have been talking about the children’s art, praising their talent. Yes, that made sense. Still, the word remained in his mind, haunting him, while Del cleaned him off and they went through the motions of making dinner. It was a shame, he thought, that the light feeling that had finally begun to accumulate over the course of the evening dissolved at the horrifying prospect of what they were going to do next.

A horrifying prospect, but a necessary one, nonetheless.

Cyran was rather accustomed to necessary evils.

It was not the indecision that scared him - a limitless future stretched ahead of them, with not a lot of options, and even less of them good. It was the fact that Cyran knew which road they had to take to make sure those kids survived, and it was not one he particularly liked. For all it’s gilded glory and fine reputation, Sol City was not much safer than Darkveil. Criminals, political instability, natural disasters… the only difference was that Sol City hid their crimes behind a veil of superiority, and the belief they were above such things, while Darkveil conducted their business out in the open.

But there was opportunity there - Miss Veliky hid her assets well, but Cyran knew that she had secure places all around the city that could house them. This favor would make him indebted to her, but those were risks he was willing to take.

Was Del?

He held his breath in the silence that stretched after he spoke, fearful. Of what outcome - Del’s rejection, or her acceptance? He forced himself to exhale, closing his eyes as his shoulders slumped, leaving him feel far older than his couple of centuries. Del’s answer came in the form of her taking his hand in her own, a steady, constant warmth. Without her uttering a single word, Cyran knew - she wasn’t going anywhere. Her voice was impossibly soft when she reminded him of what she’d told him so long ago, when they left for the Judeia.

“Well. Sol City really isn’t that different.” Cyran managed to joke, though there was no real humor in it.

“I know her well enough to understand how she operates. Her emotions are buried so deep that even she is not aware she has them.” Cyran murmured, recalling his last few minutes with the elusive Veliky, the woman who behaved as if she was merely one of her legion of machines, spiteful of her humanity. “It is… a toss-up as to how she might act. But I know this much. She has the means to house the kids and keep them safe. Whether that offer comes with strings attached… I will willingly allow myself to tie myself to her.”

If he was not cried out from last night, he would have shed more tears at Del’s firm resolve, the desire to stick by his side and stay there. He had been the one to ask her to walk with him before he’d truly thought about the offer, perhaps because after all this, some small part of him still didn’t expect her to stay. And yet - her reminder that she was willing to plunge herself to the same depths he would for these children - it felt natural.

“Okay.” He whispered. “Okay. I will…” Dinner was ready, but he couldn’t eat just yet with the nausea building in his chest. “Give me a moment. I will send my acquaintance a letter - we should get word to her as soon as possible.”

Before he stood, Cyran leaned forward, grabbing Del by the shoulders, cool fingers delicately brushing against the curls that framed the nape of her neck. He closed his eyes, pressing their foreheads together.

This, too, felt right.

“Dinner smells delicious.” He said as he pulled away, that shared warmth still lingering, before he stood and dusted himself off. “It will only take me a moment to finish this business. And then…” Cyran didn’t know what the future held, but that was inconsequential. Between him and Del, he had confidence that they would be able to face it head-on.

Together.

“And then we eat.”

There was nothing in the world he’d rather do in that moment.

Del barks a soft laugh, nodding her agreement. She really did not enjoy Sol City at the best of times either; she had been attacked there before by whatever powers were pursuing her. She was not eager to go back for any reason at all, but she would, if she needed to, to keep the children safe. And Cyran, of course. Her chin lifts up as she listens to him discuss this woman who buried her true feelings, that it made her some-what unpredictable, but that he also trusted, at least, this person had the means and resources to keep the children safe. Del nods slowly, her expression one of understanding. "I'm with you. The things that make the most sense are often not the most pleasant. What's best for the kids is what matters. I trust your judgment." And if this mysterious friend fell through, well. At least they knew where they were.

The softness of Cyran's voice as he starts to relax, hearing that she is in his corner, nearly undoes her. The past day and a half have been harrowing to say the least, and to see him in better spirits, starting to ease into security and safety, fills her with a sense of victory; she had accomplished her goal, one she hadn't been entirely aware of, but his smile was back an his tension was lessened. That was all she wanted; to ease his burden.

She hoped that would convince Eleanor she had his best interest at heart.

Before she can stand up to allow him time to write his missive, Cyran suddenly reaches out, hands resting gently on her shoulders, bringing her to pause. His fingers graze the back of her neck-- something that would normally send her body into a reflexive defensive response, but with Cyran, that urge to defend herself never comes. Instead, there's a quiet shiver, a release of the tension with which she held her shoulders. His touch is a balm, a coolness against the nape of her neck like a cold cloth on feverish skin, soothing and restorative.

His forehead, then, connecting with hers, is damn near blissful.

Immediately her eyes flutter closed, leaning a little into the contact. A stolen moment, a precious pause to meet a silent need; assurance, comfort, affection, gratitude, relief. Del draws a slow breath in, trying to preserve this instant for as long as she can.

It's over again, too soon, but long enough for her to feel revitalized... And seen. Del gives Cyran a quivering smile, watching him stand. Ready to move once more to the helm of his efforts to keep those in his care as safe as he would have them.

"Of course. Take your time, I'll be waiting for you here."

She watches him depart to write his missive and finishes up dinner, ensuring bowls and other tools were at the ready for the children to eat. Their time in the woods might be over soon, but the danger was not. But, as long as they were at one another's side, they could overcome this.

Del truly would have it no other way.