They shut the drawer firmly, and crossed their arms. “I was not his physician at the time, but I certainly am now,” they said. “Leave, please.” She stared in surprise, and they lifted their brows. “What? Being part of an amoral organisation doesn’t mean I’ve lost all memory of—” They waved vaguely downwards. “The real world. I still remember what it’s like down there. I’d like to be a good doctor by any culture’s standards.”

These hunters did have their own odd brand of loyalty. Perhaps not praiseworthy, but resilient, it seemed. “Of course,” Orfeus said, and dipped her head a little deeper. “Thank you for telling me what you could.” She looked up. “In a place like this, knowing information is like having knives ready. I just want to keep plenty up my sleeve.”

Mordrai looked faintly troubled. “Fox,” they said, then corrected themself. “Orfeus. Outside of sparring, and the Trial…you do know no one here’s going to hurt you. Why would we?”

“I didn’t know that, actually,” Orfeus said. She took a step back and saluted them. “Now there’s some good intel.” It couldn’t be true, but it was interesting Mordrai thought it.

“You’ll feel better once you settle in,” Mordrai said, and tugged fretfully at their sleeves, out of their depth.

“Once I’m one of the ones who does the hurting, you mean,” Orfeus said, and they looked troubled. So she laughed, like it was a joke, and they laughed along with her.

Orfeus dived forward again, and again Faol stepped easily aside from the blow so she tumbled to the ground from momentum. His mask was pushed back on his sweaty brow, and his eyes dug into her like coals.

Orfeus pushed herself to her feet. Faolan said, “Enough.”

She lowered her hands and frowned at him. “I can do more.”

Faol just shook her head. Orfeus bristled. “Mordrai said I can fight,” she said, stretching the truth somewhat.

“No,” he said harshly. He jerked his head at her. “You’re getting slow. You’ll learn better later. Push yourself too far and you’ll fall. I told you.”

Orfeus crossed her arms. “But better for you if I die, right?” she said. “Then you don’t have to deal with me.”

Faol stepped forward, reaching for her arm, and Orfeus tensed. Faol stopped short, tense-jawed, and just clenched his hand hard instead. “I will not fail,” he ground out.

“Ahaha,” Orfeus said. “That’s why you care. Of course it is.”

Faolan pushed her helmet forward, back over her face. “Wear your armour next time,” she said. The metal glinted. “Practice fighting with and without it, to be safe.”