"I'm many things, Selarenia, but suicidal isn't one of them," Journey said with a grin. "I'll come running to you as soon as I have need, never you worry."
When she'd left, Conner sighed and stood, not able to safely look at the Avatar. "Wasn't there another healer you could've run to? Not that I'm not grateful, but-"
"She's not a normal woman," Journey said, standing as well, the cheer gone from his voice. "Selarenia is wrapped up in all of this so tightly that if she runs, Fate might snap her in half. Turning a blind eye to that fact will just get her killed."
"She deserves happiness, damnit - true happiness, as much as this world can give."
"And is she the type to be happy while others suffer and burn for her inactivity?" Journey grabbed Conner's arm, yanked him around. "Is she?"
Conner met his gaze, his own anger just as sharp and hot. "No," he said, finally. "My soul be damned, she'd rather be there."
"Then stop your bitching. You choose this when you choose her, and you choose well. Now, I can likely get this boat to the harbor safely with a few jumps, then we'll take a short rest. You can join the others by the time the sun rises in Arrion."
"Good enough," Conner said, stalking over to where he kept the buckets and brushes. "I'm getting your divine blood off my deck before it stains."