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[devoutish]

Yeah?

[That's it, that's all you get.]

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[devoutish]

[Okay. Time to be as pragmatic as he can be. What are the words Royce would need to be able to say?]

Alfie. Building. Danger. Tunnels. North, east, s-ssssouth, west.

[He pauses to take a breather.]

Food. Anomaly. Lockdown. Cold. Frostbite. Hurt--

[And another breather. Give him a moment.]

[bywolves]

Alfie. [ Royce says, with a sigh. Don't push yourself. ]

[devoutish]

Didn't help, did it? Killing you.

[bywolves]

Didn't. [ For a second he's quiet, and then the sobbing picks up again in the background. The yellow eyes peering out from under the cloak close. ] Killing -- Royce. Killing Royce.

[ It's killing me, listening to her cry, he means. It's not super clear. ]

[devoutish]

[It's not, but his distress is obvious, even if the reason for it isn't.]

Royce.

[He touches the screen again. It's all he can do.]

[bywolves]

[ Not being able to communicate is upsetting. Royce shivers again, tapping his claws against the glass of the tablet. ] Cold.

[devoutish]

[That's right - he doesn't have blankets or supplies or anything.]

I'll come. Now. Where--- where-- are you? Hospital, church, funeral home--

[bywolves]

Funeral home. [ Royce buzzes anxiously. He has more he wants to say but he can't, so in frustration: ] Do talking--

No - no danger?

[devoutish]

Danger. There's always danger.

[bywolves]

Danger. [ Royce snarls, cloak throwing a bit of a fit. It leaves a long, screeching line across the front of the tablet's screen. Read his mind, Alfie, god. ] It danger you come now?

[devoutish]

No more than-- than usual.

I'm a fucking bear, mate. I'm all right.

[He runs a hand over his bloody shoulder.]

[bywolves]

Hurt. [ Royce hisses. ] Cold. Danger. You.

[devoutish]

I've got fur. I won't get cold.

You're in more danger than I am, now.

[bywolves]

[ That's not what he means and he's losing his patience, the little he had to begin with. He has no idea what time it is, and he wants to make sure Alfie doesn't get caught locked outside, with a very limited pool of words - and his monster brain is making it very, very hard to focus. Or be calm, in any way.

It doesn't occur to him, in his monster rage, that he could just use lockdown. It's hard to think.

The cloak monster throws the tablet across the room and lets out a horrible sound before knocking - something over. Sounds like it might be a coffin. ]

[devoutish]

Royce! Royce.

[He loses his words himself, for a moment, a strong spike of fear driving them from his head. He manages some concerned-sounding growls, sliding his fingers across the tablet screen.]

[bywolves]

[ It takes a minute for Royce to calm down. When he can, a few minutes later, he crawls to the tablet and curls up around it, almost making himself a nest for the tablet to sit on. It's the only connection he's got that isn't - her, in the corner, alternating between sobbing and laughing. ]

Lockdown. [ Royce says finally, ragged. ] Danger lockdown.

[devoutish]

No, it's-- it's all right. I'll get inside in time.

[Can he really promise that, though? The more human part of his brain tells him that no, he can't. That he's only saying he can because he wants to get to Royce as soon as possible, because he doesn't want to spend another night alone in the post office - and because, when it comes down to it, he doesn't care about the risk of dying as much as he should.]

[bywolves]

[ You better. Royce growls, a warning noise. He knows Alfie - he knows the both of them, and while Alfie's usually hardcore about nobody dying without reason, that's been slipping, lately. ]

Danger. [ Royce repeats, angrily. ] You get inside in time. [ Promise him. ] I'll come to you.

[devoutish]

It'll be just as fucking dangerous for you.

[bywolves]

I'll get inside in time.

[devoutish]

Royce.

[bywolves]

Alfie.

[devoutish]

[He sighs, and forces himself to be completely honest here.]

It's a long walk through the tunnels. It's-- and my head--

[Pause. Breathe.]

Not much room for error. If I lose my-- myself, if I get turned around--

[He won't have the time to spare. He can only make it to the next building if he starts walking soon, and keeps walking straight. He can't promise that he'd get in before lockdown.]

[bywolves]

No. [ Then don't move. He's not going to risk Alfie dying. ] No come. No walk, no error.

[devoutish]

And you?

[Royce has to move, at least a little bit. He can't stay in the funeral home overnight.]