The next morning, Lisara and Vilkas stood outside in High Hrothgar's courtyard, waiting for Master Borri to arrive. Yesterday, Arngeir had said that the other mentor would meet them at first light, but they'd been standing outside for nearly fifteen minutes already and he still had yet to show up.

Lisara shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest, trying in vain to keep her body heat contained. She knew that it would be cold up here—after all, wasn't all of Skyrim freezing?—but now that she was experiencing the frigid temperatures firsthand, she realized that reality far exceeded any expectation she might've had.

The wind howled as it blew around the peak of the Throat of the World, and round flakes of snow swirled around them in a flurry. A violent shiver wracked her body and she tightened her arms around her small frame. Even the snowflakes didn't get a chance to form their usual beautiful patterns; it was far too cold at this altitude. All they got was clumps of frozen moisture.

I swear to Talos…If I get frostbite following him around…

She glanced over at Vilkas, who had remained silent since they'd met up a few minutes ago. She'd tried to start a conversation several times, but all she received back in response were non-descript grunts and mumbled single-word sentences. It seemed like last night had changed things between them and Lisara kicked herself mentally for hoping that the moment had meant something. She missed their banter and the more playful side of Vilkas that she hadn't expected him to have. Now, he was nearly as unfriendly as he had been when they'd first met, which hadn't been that long ago.

Thank the Nine nothing had actually happened between them. Then how would he be acting?

While she was ruminating over the situation, the door that led inside finally creaked open and they both glanced over to it, spotting Master Borri and Master Arngeir trekking towards them. When the two elders neared, Lisara saw Vilkas straighten beside her and she followed suit, showing the proper amount of respect to them. Though she wasn't learning anything from the Greybeards personally, she recognized that they did indeed command respect, for they were wise in their ways for a reason. The speed at which they'd taught Vilkas his first shout the day prior was clear evidence of that.

Once the two men stood before the duo, Arngeir looked up at Vilkas and wasted no time getting started. Instead of a greeting, he launched directly into the lesson. "Master Borri will be teaching you Wuld, which means Whirlwind. It is a completely new shout and I am curious to see how you learn something entirely unfamiliar to you."

Vilkas nodded and looked at Master Borri, who was slowly backpedaling to the edge of the stone clearing. The Greybeard held out his arm and in a voice slightly quieter than Vilkas' shouts, said, "Wuld," causing a slight gust of air to shoot past them. The sudden wind ruffled the ends of their hair and when the breeze faded, characters appeared in the ground again, just as they did the day before. Vilkas stared at them intently for a few seconds until he nodded in understanding. When he looked back up at Borri, iridescent streams of power traveled from the elder to Vilkas. They were identical to the ones that had transferred from Einarth when they'd taught Vilkas the second word of Unrelenting Force. Vilkas inhaled as he absorbed the flood of energy and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his pale irises were alight with determination.

Arngeir gestured to two stone columns that lay on the other end of the clearing and said, "Now we shall see how well you master a completely new shout."

Vilkas nodded and headed over to the columns, and Lisara trailed after him in silence. Though she didn't say anything, inside, she was burning with curiosity about this whole Dragonborn business. What did it feel like to shout? How did the power coursing within his veins affect his strength? With the way things ended between them yesterday, she hesitated to be the first one to speak-especially with a question that was rather personal. Besides that, she didn't wish to break his concentration. Perhaps afterward, there'd be a chance for her to question him.

When the group reached the columns, they all came to a halt. Arngeir, along with another elder, stepped forward, while Borri continued on to stand farther off by another pair of taller stone columns.

Arngeir faced Vilkas and gestured to the elder beside him, stating, "Master Wolfgar will demonstrate how Whirlwind Sprint works. Then, it will be your turn."

Ahead of them and behind Borri stood a pair of closed iron gates. The gates were comprised of a strange pattern: rods of iron ran through the center in diagonal lines, seemingly without order. It reminded Lisara of a spider's web, and she wondered if there was any significance to them.

Master Borri looked to Arngeir for confirmation and when the head elder nodded, Borri opened the gates. Without warning, Wolfgar shouted three words of power in rapid succession and shot forward, seemingly leaping across the entire clearing in only a second or two. Lisara only caught the first word, Wuld, because she'd just heard Arngeir say it. Otherwise, she would've been completely lost. It seemed as if Vilkas was equally as wary, because his gaze was concentrated on Wolfgar in the far distance, his eyes narrowed.

"Now it is your turn," Arngeir instructed, and Vilkas stepped forward as the gates before them closed. "Master Borri will open the gates, and you will use your Whirlwind Sprint to pass through them before they close once more."

Vilkas nodded to signify his understanding and Arngeir signaled to Borri. When the gates opened, Vilkas crouched slightly and shouted, "Wuld!"

He shot forward and the resulting tailwind flew up into Lisara's face. She threw her arm up, shielded her eyes from the gust and once it had faded, she opened her eyes and saw Vilkas on the opposite side of the clearing, standing beside Wolfgar. He had a wide, delighted grin on his face and she shook her head at his childlike excitement.

A few seconds later, he ran back over to join them and Arngeir, with wonder in his voice, said, "Your ability to master new shouts in little to no time is...astounding. I'd heard of the Dragonborn's natural ability, but to see it for myself is…"

Vilkas' gaze dropped to the ground for a second and Lisara saw his face contort briefly, before he looked back up at Arngeir with a neutral expression. "I'm not sure how I do it. It just...happens."

The elder nodded and replied, "And that is why it is so incredible. With this shout, you are now ready for your last trial. We ask that you retrieve the horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder. The horn can be found in his tomb, in Ustengrav. Remember, remain true to the Way of the Voice, and you will return to us in no time."

Vilkas bowed slightly and the handful of Greybeards walked away, towards the entrance to High Hrothgar. He watched them go and Lisara took the opportunity to observe him as he remained facing away from her. His face was still schooled into a pensive expression, and she lamented the fact that he was so good at keeping his emotions contained. It seemed as if her emotions were always visible to others; they controlled her actions and dictated her view of every situation. Clearly, how they'd come to be traveling together was the perfect example of that.

She had to admit that she was somewhat jealous of his self-control.

Eventually, he faced her and she looked up into his eyes, expecting him to say something. When a few seconds had passed and he still remained silent, she raised an eyebrow at him and prompted, "Yes?"

He grunted and asked, "I assume you're coming with me, then? To Ustengrav?"

A sly smile spread out across her face and she teased, "Trying to get rid of me already?"

That earned her an eye-roll. "No, I was just asking. I'm assuming Ustengrav isn't going to be easy to get through. There are likely to be draugr and various trials that are meant to test me. Perhaps it would be safer for you to stay here."

Lisara scoffed and brushed past him, heading for the door. "Please, Vilkas. I'm not a maiden who needs saving or protecting; I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, as I've shown you on multiple occasions. Stop trying to treat me like a fragile little flower. I'm coming with you, even if you don't want me to."

From behind her, she heard him let out a short sigh. She pushed open the door and his sudden presence at her back caught her off guard. She could feel the waves of heat rolling off of him and as they swept over her, she tensed and quickly sidestepped, letting him past through the doorway first. The high-temperature of his body heat—was he always that warm?—evoked a memory of the night before, when he'd been standing over her and leaning down to...to do what? To kiss her? She'd never actually asked him if that was what had been happening for certain, though it had seemed as if that was the likeliest outcome. He'd been so close to her that she could feel the heat radiating off his skin, and she was bothered by the fact that she was already so comforted by his warmth.

At her abrupt stop, he glanced back at her and held up his hands. "Why are you just standing there?"

Dismissively, she shook her head and started walking towards their rooms. "No reason, sorry. Just got distracted with my thoughts. I'll grab my things and meet you at the door," she replied and sped off without waiting for his response.

Stay focused, Lisara! You're acting like a smitten schoolgirl, she reprimanded herself.

Quickly, she rushed into the room she'd stayed in and stuffed her belongings into her pack. It didn't take her long to gather all of her things and with a final, tight cinch of the drawstrings, she slung it over her shoulder and stepped back out into the hall. She made her way to the door and spotted Master Arngeir, standing beside the exit, with his hands folded inside of his robe's sleeves.

He watched her approach and when she stood in front of him, he stated, "Your horses have been fed and cared for, and we've given you as many supplies as we could spare for your trip."

Lisara inclined her head in a bow and said, "Thank you, Master Arngeir. Is Vilkas already outside?"

He nodded in confirmation and she bowed again before pushing the door open and stepping back out into the blinding sunlight. She made her way down the steps and spotted Vilkas at the base of the staircase, securing his pack to his mount. Once she'd hopped off the last step and stood beside him, he glanced up at her and reached his hand out, to which she quirked her eyebrow in a silent question.

When she didn't move or respond, he sighed and insisted, "Give me your pack, Lisara. You're incredibly slow at tying it onto his saddle."

She rolled her eyes and lifted her heavy bag off of her shoulder, handing it over to him. "I'm surprised that you're willing to stand that close to Shadowmere, when only yesterday you were terrified of him."

Vilkas scoffed as he approached her stallion. "I wasn't terrified, I was wary. There's quite a large difference between the two."

"Mmhm," she replied, the corners of her lips curling upwards in a teasing smile.

He didn't say anything in response and pulled the final cord tight, before looping it through the ring on Shadowmere's saddle one last time. Lisara sidled up to him and he held out his hand again, offering to help her up. She let out a chuckle and said, "I can climb onto my horse all by myself, Vilkas. But thank you."

With a grunt, he made his way over to his own mount and with quick, familiar movements, was settled in his saddle in no time. Lisara mirrored his actions and patted Shadowmere's neck affectionately in greeting. She faced Vilkas and called out, "I hope you know how to get to Ustengrav, because I sure don't."

Vilkas rolled his eyes and sighed. "Remind me why you're coming along again, if you're not of any use?"

His mount broke out into a trot and as Lisara followed after him, she teased, "And here I thought you were being such a gentleman this morning."

That earned her a low chuckle and she decided to consider that a victory, seeing how Vilkas didn't seem like the type to succumb to a full-bellied laugh. With him leading the way, they trekked back down the long, winding mountain path, and headed for Ustengrav.


The next day.

The journey was taking far longer than Lisara had anticipated.

When they'd first set out, she asked Vilkas when they'd get there and he gave her a wry look as he deadpanned, "In a couple of days."

Apparently, Ustengrav was not mere hours away—no, of course things were never that easy. It was slightly farther north than Morthal, which was about a day and a half's ride from High Hrothgar. If the monastery hadn't been so far up the mountain, they might've been able to shave off a few hours. Sadly, that obviously wasn't the case and they were just barely outside of the city, beginning their descent towards the coastline.

Morthal was located inside of a bay that was littered with broken, disjointed pieces of land. The city was small and relatively nondescript, though it favored the common wooden houses that were so prominent in Nordic architecture. Because the city was so far north, the roofs of every building within the limits were nearly always coated in a light layer of snow. Though the wind that drifted through her hair was chilly, it was nothing in comparison to the cold, biting air of the Throat of the World. Lisara never thought this would be possible, but she'd almost say that she was getting used to the extremely low temperatures of Skyrim.

The land below them began to slope downward, and Lisara spotted the snow-capped roofs of the buildings in the distance. Their horses' hooves clacked against the stone bridge that led into the city, and once they were across, Vilkas pointed at a tall, two-story building ahead of them. "That's the inn up there. I vote we stay the night and then head out for Ustengrav in the morning."

Lisara nodded. "Sounds good to me. I'm surprised you don't want to just make camp outside of Ustengrav and save us the travel time."

He glanced back over his shoulder at her and explained, "That would save time, yes. But I want to be fully rested before we trek through the crypt. If one of us has to keep watch all night, and we end up on edge the entire time, we won't be at our best and that's something I don't want to risk."

"Fair enough."

Thus far, that was probably the longest sentence that Vilkas had said to her since that night in High Hrothgar's dining hall. They'd spoken intermittently over the past day or so since they'd left the Greybeards, but he was by no means talkative. Most of their time riding had been spent in silence as they concentrated on getting to Morthal as quickly as possible.

The Greybeards hadn't given them a time limit, but Vilkas was apparently the sort of person who didn't lollygag. If he was given an objective, he got it done; he didn't wait for any reason. In contrast, Lisara was not nearly as gung-ho about getting things done immediately. To be fair, it wasn't like she procrastinated or purposefully took her time. It was just that she understood that some contracts dictated their timeframe. If she rushed things when they weren't meant to be rushed, it could ruin the entire plan she'd put into place.

Vilkas wasn't rash by any means, but he most definitely did things with the end goal in mind, at all times.

When they reached the inn, they dismounted and tied their horses to the post. Vilkas worked on removing their packs from the saddles and Lisara looked up at the establishment as it towered above them. The rickety, wooden sign hanging above the entrance read "Moorside Inn", and it swung back and forth in the breeze, creaking slightly. 'Moorside Inn' was an apt title, because most of Morthal rested above the water. The city was coastal, and though the bay was difficult to navigate because of the intermittent pieces of land, many people docked at the pier on the edge of town. Lisara could hear the water lapping at the wooden posts that supported the decks above the surface.

Once the horses were secured and Vilkas had their packs slung over his shoulders, they headed up the steps. With a not-so gentle push, the main door opened and revealed the somewhat desolate dining hall of the inn. Morthal wasn't a very popular city of choice when it came to retreats, so the hall was rather empty at the moment. Only two other patrons sat in the far corner of the room, and a single lute player was sitting by the fireplace, strumming random chords to fill the silence.

The barmaid noticed their entrance and set down the rag she was using to wiping the counter. In only a few quick strides, she came around the bar and crossed the room, placing her hands on her hips once she stood before the duo.

"Are you wanting to rent a room?" she asked, her tone not quite impolite, but neither was it welcoming.

Vilkas cleared his throat and nodded as he said, "Yes, for just one night."

"Alright. Follow me," the barmaid instructed, before she spun on her heel and made her way to the other side of the room where a set of stairs led the way to where Lisara assumed the rooms were.

They followed after her in silence, and Lisara could feel the eyes of the other two guests on their backs as they crossed the space. Once they were upstairs and out of sight of the lower level, she let out a relieved breath and Vilkas looked back at her, a silent question on his face. She shook her head in response and he shrugged.

The barmaid—which obviously if she was bringing guests to their rooms, she was doing much more than just running the bar—led them to the third door on their left, pushing it open to show them the interior of the room. There was a single bed in the center of the room, pushed back against the wall; it looked like it only only hold one, maybe two skinny people at the most. There was a washbasin beside it, and a nightstand on the opposite side. That was...about it.

"This is the only room we have available. It's a bit tight, but it'll work for you two, eh?" she commented with a wink.

They both sputtered in denial and Vilkas was faster than Lisara at recovering. He glared at the barmaid and said, "The bed is barely big enough to fit me! Where in Talos' name is she supposed to sleep?"

"Well, on the bed, with you," the barmaid replied nonsensically.

"We're not...This isn't—" Vilkas stuttered as he tried to explain their situation.

Lisara piped up and gave it a try, in an attempt to spare Vilkas the awkwardness. "We're not...together or anything...We'd prefer separate rooms, if you have another one available?"

"Nope, sorry. This is it," the other woman stated with finality in her tone.

"Then what are these other doors?" Vilkas demanded.

"Those two are taken; the one across the hall is mine. I live here too, you know. I really do mean that's our only available room." After her statement, the barmaid-slash-owner turned and headed back downstairs. Before she disappeared from their view, they heard her mutter, "We're not The Winkin' Skeever, y'know."

Silence filled the hall in her absence and Lisara glanced at up Vilkas, only to see that he kept his eyes trained on the staircase. His eyes were narrowed and his mouth was set into a firm frown. Deciding not to bother him just yet, she faced the room again and peeked inside, grimacing once more when she noted the size.

"Well. I can sleep on the floor?" she offered in an attempt to make light of the situation, which elicited a scoff from him.

"No, you're not sleeping on the floor," he rebutted, turning around to look into the room as well. "I will."

"Is this some nonsense about me being a woman, and that I shouldn't ever have to sleep on the floor?" she lightly teased. From what she'd seen of him over the past few days, he seemed to be more of a gentleman than he wished to let on.

"Something like that," he mumbled as he walked into the room and set his pack down against the wall.

"You really don't have to take the floor, Vilkas. I'm fine with it; that's what bedrolls are for," Lisara insisted.

"I'm taking the floor," he stated firmly, finally meeting her gaze.

They stared into each other's eyes, and Lisara could see that it clicked for Vilkas at the same time that it did for her: this was the first time they'd be alone together—behind closed doors nonetheless. She swallowed down the nervous lump in her throat and he cleared his throat before turning away and subsequently rummaging through his pack.

After watching him for a few seconds, she set her pack down on the bed and began to pull her nightclothes out. If he really insisted that she take the bed, she realized it would probably just irritate him if she continued to fight him on that decision.

Timidly, she called out to him, "I, um, I'm going to change now. Stay facing that way until I say, okay?"

His shoulders tensed and he grunted in response, to which Lisara asked, "Is that a yes?"

"Aye. Change already," he grumbled.

Lisara mumbled her thanks and strode over to the door, shutting it quickly before she walked back over to the bed. With movements as familiar to her as breathing, she yanked off her boots and unbuckled the belts holding her weapons around her thighs. She set them aside, next to her boots and reached around her side, to tug at the seam that kept her uniform together. Inside of the seam, lay a row of eyelet hooks that she now undid, and her uniform began to separate. One of the advantages of this closure was that it allowed her armor to be skin-tight, without buttons or exterior hooks getting in the way; they were all hidden beneath the flap of fabric.

Once she had most of it undone, she pulled her armor away from her chest and removed her arms from her sleeves. With a quick push, the entire thing was off and she hurriedly grabbed her loose-fitting pants and linen sleeping shirt. When she finally tugged the hem of her shirt completely down, she said, "Okay, I'm done."

Vilkas turned with his bedroll in hand and she saw his eyes flicker over her entire body before he looked away. She wasn't sure whether she liked the attention or whether it made her uncomfortable. Sure, when she'd been straddling his firm, masculine hips, she'd definitely admired the view...but it was weird to think about him doing the same to her. Perhaps it just seemed ludicrous to her that someone as stoic and intense as Vilkas would be doing something as suggestive and forward as admiring her body.

Without a word, he unfurled his bedroll and laid it on the cold, stone floor, proceeding to smooth out the bumps. For whatever reason, his silence made Lisara nervous and she twirled the ends of her braid in her fingers as she watched him.

"Are you going to change?" she asked.

"No. I always sleep in full armor," he replied, still without looking back at her.

Unbidden, the image of him lying naked beneath his fur pelts at Jorrvaskr flashed into her mind. A coy smile spread out across her face and she commented, "Not always."

At the suggestive tone in her voice, he paused and looked up at her, surprise coloring his expression. "I…" he trailed off.

She blushed as she realized what she'd said out loud, and in an attempt to cover up her accidental divulgence, waved her hand at him and said, "I was kidding. You're really alright with me taking the bed?"

He cleared his throat again and nodded, so she climbed under the covers, pulling them up to her chin once she was settled. Knowing that there was no way she could fall asleep while he was still up and puttering about the room, she asked, "Are you going to sleep soon, too?"

"Aye," Vilkas replied as he bent over and blew out the single candle illuminating the room.

Lisara heard him getting under the bedroll's covers and then silence settled in. Now that the room was dark, she was hyper-aware of the fact that he was lying down only a foot or so away from her. It was as if the darkness amplified the tension between them and the air felt charged with electricity.

How in the world am I supposed to get any sleep now?

Out of nowhere, his rich baritone broke the silence. "Goodnight, Lisara."

His unexpected nicety startled her and she twitched slightly in bed. After a second, she recovered and replied, "Goodnight, Vilkas."


Lisara tossed and turned all night, unable to completely relax and fall into a true, deep sleep. When she could see the pale hint of the sun's rays peeking up over the mountains outside the window, she finally drifted off. What felt like only minutes later, she woke to Vilkas shaking her awake. She shot upright in bed and he narrowly avoided being clobbered in the chin with her forehead. Luckily for him, he'd dove backwards just in time.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. We should get going," Vilkas suggested.

She rubbed her eyes, trying to work the exhaustion from her heavy lids. "Right...give me a second?"

He nodded and slung his pack over his shoulder, opening the door. "I'll meet you downstairs," he replied, closing the door behind him.

A long sigh escaped her and she blinked rapidly a few times before she swung her legs over the side of the bed. When the soles of her feet touched the freezing stone below, she cringed and retracted them, leaning over the edge of the bed for her boots. After shoving her feet into them and standing, she shed her nightclothes—pulling her pants off over her boots was quite the challenge, but anything was better than frozen feet—and shoved them into her pack.

Quickly, she donned her armor again and rebraided her hair, heading over to the washbasin to wash her face. She dipped a tentative finger into the bowl and winced at the sharp sting of the cold water. Taking a deep breath, she hastily splashed her face with a cupped handful of liquid and when the water hit her skin, she shook her head from side to side to dispel the glacial moisture.

Once she'd dried her cheeks off with her forearm, she hoisted her pack up onto her back and headed out the door. The chatter of patrons in the dining hall drifted up to her ears and she trekked down the stairs, hopping slightly as she made her way down. When she was standing at the base of the steps, she saw Vilkas raise his hand from the little nook off in the far corner of the room, the one where they'd seen the other two guests on their way in last night. The room was far more populated than it had been when they'd arrived, and she guessed that townsfolk likely came here for meals during the day. Sometimes, sharing a meal with your neighbor, pint in hand and a warm fireplace nearby, beat eating alone at home—she could definitely understand that.

She crossed the room and sat down on the stool beside him, tucking her pack underneath the table. After she faced him, she asked, "Breakfast?"

"Mmm. Can't head out and fight without sustenance, right?" he replied.

Lisara made a sound of agreement and that was when the same barmaid—or perhaps also the owner of the inn—from yesterday appeared, two plates in hand. She set them down and walked off without a word, and Lisara raised an eyebrow at her anti-social behavior. Vilkas must've noticed her expression because he chuckled under his breath and said, "She was rather unfriendly when I ordered, too. We must've earned her ire after last night."

"Apparently," she mumbled, finally looking down at her food. "Ordered me some eggs, did you?"

"Don't tell me you don't like eggs," he sighed in exasperation.

"No, no, I do. I just thought it was sweet that you ordered without asking me," she quipped.

"We're in a hurry," he grunted before wolfing down his food.

A smile teased at the corners of her lips and, choosing not to start off the day on the wrong foot by pointing out his gesture again, she followed his example and quickly scarfed down her eggs. Ten minutes later, they were finished and Vilkas placed a few coins on the table before rising to his feet. She slung her bag over her shoulder again and followed her companion out the door.

In silence, though it wasn't necessarily awkward, she handed her bag over to him again and he secured both of them to their mounts' saddles. She climbed up onto Shadowmere's saddle, adjusting herself as she fisted the reins. He mirrored her action and nudged his mount forward, and not long after, they were leaving Morthal behind.

It would only take an hour or so to reach Ustengrav and they traveled quickly, pushing their steeds to their limits. In no time at all, the slightly raised mound that marked the tomb's location loomed before them on the horizon. They slowed their pace as they neared and eventually, Vilkas held up his hand to indicate that they were stopping. Lisara pulled back on Shadowmere's reins and her trusty stallion acquiesced, coming to a halt as a cloud of dust rose up behind them.

The two of them dismounted and left their packs tied to their horses' saddles; full packs were entirely too cumbersome and Lisara had forgotten to remind Vilkas about the dragon bones in her bag. As a result, he hadn't sold any of them, and her bag was still ridiculously heavy—she wasn't about to heave that thing through a tomb filled to the brim with draugr.

He led the way down the rickety wooden stairs and into the open-ceiling alcove. Once they were standing in front of the elaborate stone door, Lisara checked that she had her daggers and a few health potion vials tucked into her pockets. Vilkas glanced down at her for confirmation and she nodded that she was ready.

After patting his own pockets and briefly wrapping his fingers around the leather-wrapped handle of the massive sword slung over his back—as if he were reassuring himself that it was indeed still there—he reached out and pushed open the tomb's heavy door.

"Let's get this over with."


A/N:

First of all, I am so sorry it took me nearly a month to get this chapter out. I honestly have no excuse. The semester has started for me, but I have a pretty light workload, so that wasn't quite to blame. For whatever reason, stringing two sentences together for this chapter was incredibly difficult; likely because it was a bit of a filler chapter, and I have trouble with those.

Many thanks to StarryNight101 and Nightlain for beta-reading :)

Thank you to PandaPuppet, my lovely guest, lady73, Lydia, Nightlain, mia78, and StarryNight101 for the reviews. Extra special thank you to Verrokami for reading through all the chapters at once! Lastly, thanks to everyone who favorited and/or followed recently.

See you next time! Hopefully it won't be nearly a month :x