The anchor held for another block.
Arthur pushed further. The cost pushed back immediately, reserves thinning the way they always did past range, but he kept pulling, thread of aetheric blood forced through frozen ground, back along the anchor's path, reaching toward Vorik's floorboards—
Something warm hit his upper lip.
He wiped it fast with the back of his wrist before Theodore could catch it. Blood on his sleeve. He pressed it flat against his side.
"Vex." Theodore's voice came quiet from his left. "Your nose."
"Fine."
"That's blood coming out of your face."
"Observed. Not relevant." Arthur kept walking, applying pressure with two fingers. "Don't make it a thing."
Theodore looked at him for exactly three seconds, not pushing, just filing it somewhere he'd clearly find later. His bellus tracked Arthur with both ears flat in concern its caller apparently didn't share.
'You're going to pass out,' Roz said flatly at his ear. 'In the street. In Creslan. In front of people.'
