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The Purity of Sin

Fourteen

The silence was near deafening after Keith's proclamation. Lance shivered next to him, battling between the relief that he was not going to die alone to the gut-wrenching fear that he'd just condemned Keith to death.

There wasn't anything he could do about it though. Keith was adamant and Lance couldn't – wouldn't – ask again. Hot tears pricked his eyes and he buried his face against Keith's arm to hide them.

There had to still be some way out of this. They'd never given up before. They couldn't start now.

But what could they do? Lance was in no condition to fight, Keith was exhausted and –

Sleep! Keith needed sleep. And if what he said was true, that the Mackans weren't going to come till the evening when… when… he skipped that thought. It meant they had time for Keith to rest even with a watch guard as useless as Lance.

And although sleep itself wasn't an answer, sleep would go a ways to helping Keith to process and plan and being able to function and fight.

Lance nuzzled his face against Keith's arm to get his attention (and try to dry the tears) and the hand about his shoulders tightened in response.

"What is it?" Keith's voice was low; a mixture of resignation and pain. He had already accepted their fate, Lance realized, frown forming on his features. He expected to die. His scowl grew fiercer. They weren't giving up, not yet. Not without a fight.

Lance shifted his head to lie on Keith's shoulder, closed his eyes and mouthed 'sleep.'

"Sleep," Keith repeated incredulously. "Are you serious?"

Lance nodded.

"Why would—"

Keith broke off as Lance elbowed him. Hard. Damn did the lanky teen have pointy elbows.

It forced Keith though out of his rather melancholy thoughts – failure and guilt running rampant – and to really look at Lance. He could see that Lance was scared, and with more than enough reason. He was still upset, smeared tears on his cheeks.

But he was also determined, a fire sparking in otherwise dulled eyes and eyebrows furrowed.

He wasn't giving up. He wanted to fight.

"Lance," he whispered, feeling like his throat was closing.

He was just so tired. The thought of having to get up, to move, to engage made his limbs cry out in protest. His head felt fuzzy, his eyes hurt and took literal effort to keep open.

It was no longer just the physical exhaustion either. He could already feel the crushing failure from what he knew was inevitable and it made his heart heavy. He hated to admit it, but it was paralyzing. It made him want to just curl up and cry like a child because he'd never felt so helpless – not in the foster system, not even when Shiro had gone missing – and he hated it. He hated this feeling but it was clawing its way into him and he couldn't seem to stop it.

'Sleep,' Lance insisted, as if sleep could fix everything.

Those blue eyes were full of trust, of hope and resilience and looking into them Keith felt a spark. It didn't wipe away the creeping darkness, but it smothered it, letting him draw a full breath.

"The odds aren't in our favor," Keith choked out, as the ember tried to find a hold. "I can't fight them all."

Lance squeezed their joined hands then, an encouragement that Keith knew had to hurt but Lance did so anyway. As though to say he was here, no matter what. Keith felt that spark burn brighter, the protective instinct that had flared when he'd realize Lance had survived being burned to death. The fear loosened its hold.

He'd made a promise, hadn't he? He'd promised Lance that they would be okay. That they would get out of here. And on top of that he'd sworn to protect Lance, who had already been robbed of sight and speech but was still somehow seeing more than Keith was.

He really was a terrible leader.

But he had an excellent right-hand.

"Okay," Keith said, returning the squeeze, a newfound strength filling him. "Okay. We're not giving up. We're going to make it back to the castle. To our team. We're both going home."

Lance's resulting smile was so genuine, so pure, that Keith found himself smiling right back, hope blooming.

It wasn't over till it was over, right? And they still had time. They were Paladins of Voltron. They didn't just give up, not even when victory looked impossible. Sometimes they just needed a reminder of what – for who – they were fighting for.

Keith's smile softened as he traced his eyes over Lance's still beaming face. "Thank you," he murmured. Lance looked confused then and Keith's lips quirked. "For reminding me. I needed that." He squeezed Lance's hand.

"This means though," Keith continued, freeing their hands and using it to open the food bag. "You need to eat. A full bar. We're going to need all of our strength."

And although Lance looked a little pale he nodded.

"Good. Let's get you another drink of water and then food. Then I'm going to take your suggestion and sleep for a couple hours."

Lance looked so relieved at that that the guilt swam back up. He'd really worried him, hadn't he?

"You can rest too," Keith told him. "It doesn't sound like we need to keep watch. And when I wake up… we'll figure out what to do."

They nearly finished the canteen, but Keith knew getting to water was going to be one of the first things they did when he woke. Lance ate the rest of the one bar from earlier and Keith ate another, leaving them with four left. He tried to get Lance to eat another, but he got a weak head shake.

Keith then helped Lance lie back down –although Lance had tried not to show it Keith could tell that the injury across his chest was causing him quite a bit of pain – in the shade and then settled himself, angling his body so that in about two hours time the sun would be shining directly on his face and it should wake him up. He couldn't sleep for too long after all because if they wanted to avoid detection for as long as possible he needed to get up and re-cauterize Lance's hands.

"Sleep," Keith told Lance, his voice heavy with it. "We'll plan when we get up."

Keith was out nearly instantly but Lance found himself wide awake even though he wished for nothing more than to fall asleep and escape the dull throbbing that had become his existence for a little bit.

No matter how much he slept – or lied there unconscious, since he seemed to be doing that quite a bit – he still felt exhausted. A good chunk he could blame on the never ending pain that only kept getting worse with each new wound.

His hands hurt so much worse than before when they'd just had a cut. Every twitch of a finger pulled on burned skin and he felt the food bar tickling its way back up just thinking about it. He swallowed heavily, desperately trying not to vomit. Still, he knew it was for the best. And he was trying really hard not to show how much pain he was actually in because he didn't want Keith to feel any more guilt than he already did for burning him in the first place.

His throat stung where the Mackan's knife had dug into it, but worse than that his entire chest ached with every breath. The bandages Keith had wrapped pressed uncomfortably on the raw skin, but Lance knew removing them would be beyond stupid.

If he could find a positive, his feet weren't feeling like he'd run over hot, broken glass at least. They still hurt, and he winced as he flexed one experimentally, but Keith had literally been carrying him so he hadn't had to put any weight on them. He bit his lip, wondering if he even could now. Just the thought of standing made him hurt and the dizziness come back front and center.

And there was no way to relieve that sick swirling feeling either. If he could just see to reorient himself, but no, that wasn't possible. He blinked but everything stayed the same and he swallowed again, this time to try and fight back tears.

No matter how much he tried to deny it, he was scared. Absolutely terrified. And once they took his hearing… He shuddered. He knew it was going to happen. For all he knew it had happened now because the area was deathly silent. But no, he let out a tiny sigh of relief as he dragged his foot against the ground and a soft scraping met his ears.

He couldn't believe he'd thought losing his voice had been that scary. It's not that it wasn't. But not being able to speak had nothing on not being able to see. He was literally relying on Keith to guide him everywhere, to do everything for him so he didn't hurt himself even more.

But at least he'd managed to swallow his pride. He wasn't stupid. He knew that if he'd kept insisting this whole while that he could do it on his own because he didn't want to appear weak that they wouldn't have gotten half this far. Accepting help was not a weakness, it took strength to realize it.

And he wasn't lying when he thought this had been a good bonding experience for him and Keith. Granted, it would be a hell of a lot better of one if they both survived it. But at least… if it did have to end here, he'd had that chance to get to know his teammate. His brother now. And he hadn't had to go through this alone.

He hated being alone. He hated that more than anything.

Reaching out his hand brushed against Keith's… shoulder, he realized after a second. He kept it there, feeling after a few moments the gentle rise and fall as Keith slept. It was comforting, to know he was right there. It'd be more comforting if Keith could maybe snore for the sound he was desperately craving, but he'd take what he could get.

And silence was a good thing, really. It meant no Mackans were approaching and they were safe for a little while longer.

Lance certainly hoped the sleep gave Keith some ideas. Because he didn't have many. If he could only see he could try and lob projectiles at the Mackans, damaged hands be damned, but he couldn't do that and he really honestly doubted he'd be capable of picking up anything. Experimentally he tried flexing his right hand and stopped immediately as what felt like streaks of lightning flared on his palm. Nope. Not happening.

He tried his left then, which was significantly less hurt when compared, and although he could twitch and shift his fingers without too bad of a result, getting to poke Keith lightly in the process, there was no way he was going to be able to get a good grip on anything.

And really, what was the point? If what Keith had said was true then he'd be deaf by the time the Mackans tried to attack. Keith couldn't even try and point him in the right direction to throw because he'd just be standing (or sitting, rather) there like some useless mannequin.

And although he'd come to terms with it, Lance couldn't quite tamp down the feeling of failure. He'd gotten them into this mess. He should have listened to Keith back when they'd first encountered the Mackans, but no, he was determined to prove that he could be just as good a diplomat as Allura. Keith had tried to say something hadn't felt right and Lance had plowed ahead and got them both captured when they should have retreated in that brief moment of time.

Now he couldn't even try to amend for his mistake. He was rendered all but incapable of doing anything on his own and was just a burden at this point to Keith. Lance was no quitter and he'd always tried to remain positive. And although he'd gotten Keith to at least look forward and not accept death lying down, he would be lying if the other boy's words hadn't shaken him.

"Either we get out of this together… or we don't get out at all."

They brought on a chill that was unwelcome even despite the heat.

Lance wasn't sure how this was going to play out or what hopefully brilliant idea Keith had. What he did know was that he was going to do anything – anything – to make sure Keith did walk away from this. He wouldn't let him die because Lance had messed up.

Even if he hadn't messed up. Not really. Bad intel had been the true cause of their problems as Allura had relied on her planet's alliance with the Mackans over ten thousand years ago and apparently a lot had changed. Or, well, Lance sincerely hoped it had because there was no way Allura would have ever knowingly sent him and Keith to a planet with sacrifice-happy tendencies, right?

He wondered what Macka had been like back when Allura had known it. Had they still had the order of their brother and sisterhood? Had Lady Leora existed then? Had the Purity of Sin?

As if summoned just thinking about the ritual made his hands burn and Lance whimpered silently as spasms shuddered through him. He was left breathless, shallow pants not permeating the still air and he whimpered again.

Sleep, his body told him. Sleep offered an escape from the pain and his thoughts.

But he couldn't. He was too hot and then too cold and the sharp pounding had returned in full to his head. He probably needed to drink more and keep hydrated, but he was pretty sure at this point they were out of water. His throat prickled.

Still, he needed to try. Keith had said he'd awaken on his own, although given how it had taken multiple prods to wake Keith the few times he had allowed himself to sleep, Lance wasn't quite sure if this was the safest option. What if Keith overslept and they got overtaken by Mackans? Lance didn't trust himself to be a good judge of time. He could tell temperature a bit because even with the long cape Keith had given him he was still unbearably cold during the night.

He let out a silent sigh and shifted slightly, trying to see if a different spot would coax his body to sleep. He'd have to trust Keith to wake up when he needed to, because even at this point Lance wasn't sure if he'd been lying here for ten minutes or for an hour.

Closing his eyes, for all the good it did, Lance tried his best to ignore the aches and tremors and stings that popped up no matter what position he took. Sleep, he told himself.

And somehow he did.

xxx

Keith's first thought upon waking was that his face felt like he'd been roasting it over a fire. The second thought was of pure panic as he jerked up right, half-expecting to see an army of Mackans surrounding them.

But nothing stirred and Lance continued to lie silently nearly against the cliff face and in the deepest part of the shade, breathing for the most part even if still a little shallow. Keith released his own breath, willing his racing heart to calm.

His preparations had worked. Based on the third sun's position, which had ever so kindly been burning his face, it had been just over two hours, leaving him two more still of daylight so he could… his stomach clenched. So he could re-cauterize Lance's hands.

Although now that he was thinking on it, perhaps that was not such a good plan. Lance was already in enough pain and he couldn't run the risk of Lance passing out for several hours again. Not when they had to come up with some plan to evade the Mackans until rescue in about twelve hours.

The Mackans already knew where they were, right? At least, the general area. They wouldn't need the blood to sniff them out then and Lance wouldn't - shouldn't - lose anywhere near fatal amounts in the few hours they'd have to go until rescue. He could hold on until then and Keith could spare them both that pain.

He nodded, decision made, and the cramping in his stomach lessened.

Heart rate steady again Keith took a moment to analyze himself. He still felt tired, but the fog that had been settling behind his eyes was lifted and his thoughts were clear and no longer mired in the resignation he had let himself get stuck in. He shot a small, grateful smile to Lance.

Now, how to get out of this?

He had two hours of daylight plus about two hours of night until the Mackans enacted their ritual and then he had an even more injured and deaf Lance. Whatever he did would have to be mostly carried out by then.

Time to think. His throat and half-baked face ached and Keith realized that their most pressing concern at this moment was still water. It was doubtful they could go for another twelve hours without any. He needed to get to the water source.

From what the map had relayed, if that was indeed water, it was about thirty minutes away and followed the cliff path. It was also headed east, which was the direction they needed to go to get back to the Lions. And no matter what, they had to get somewhere within range of the Lions or the rest of the team would never find them and this rescue would be for nothing.

Keith just really, really hoped he hadn't messed up on counting the hours. If he was even a varga off and he and Lance were stranded for that extra time… he didn't like their odds. He didn't like them now though, so really, it was a moot point. Still, the sooner the better because anything could happen in the interim and if they succeeded they were already going to be down to the wire.

Keith shook his head. Not if. When. When they succeeded. He had to remain positive.

So, water first. And headed in the correct direction too. He looked to Lance again, debating the best way to transport the lanky teen. His shoulders and back ached at the thought of carrying Lance again, not at all helped by sleeping on rock. Maybe Lance would be up for walking with support? His back pleaded for that to be yes.

Besides, they did need to leave this area. Keith wasn't sure what was beyond, but the Mackans had tracked them to where they currently were and that was likely to be where they centered their first wave. If Keith could get him and Lance far enough away from this spot they may even be able to evade for longer before a confrontation.

He knelt down next to Lance, whose right hand was pillowed on his stomach and left outstretched on the ground. Gingerly he pulled back the bandage on the right, nose wrinkling at the still lingering smell of burned flesh and also… he stiffened. Infection.

God damn it.

He'd known that infection was possible, but so soon? He pulled the bandage back farther, noting how the skin was not just red from the burn but inflamed on one edge of the wound. It radiated heat; more than Keith knew was safe. Lance twitched slightly but did not wake and Keith replaced the covering.

There was nothing he could do. If they could find a pool of water perhaps they could wash it… but then again, what if there was bacteria in the water? Even if it was a moving source it could be dangerous. And Lance wasn't likely to succumb to an infection in the next fourteen hours. He was stronger than that, Keith tried to reassure himself.

Keith's stomach gave another lurch. Lance was indeed strong, but right now his body was weak. He pressed a hand to Lance's forehead, the skin dry but hot and not entirely to be blamed on the planet's temperature.

Keith swore again.

Moving quickly, Keith checked the left hand – not bleeding and no sign of infection – and redressed the wound from Lance's collarbone across his chest. It too did not yet seem infected, although still warmer than it should, and a thin line of blood snaked away from the uncauterized part as Keith pulled on the robe bandage.

Lance did stir then as Keith was relayering that part. This time though the swordsman was prepared. As soon as Lance's eyes flew open he was already there, one hand pressed gently on Lance's shoulder to keep him lying down and the other on his forehead, fingers half-carded in bangs.

"I'm right here," he said softly, not forcing Lance to have to figure out what was happening, seeing the tension leave Lance's body as soon as he recognized the voice. "It's all right, I'm just checking the bandages. Can you lie still for a few more minutes?"

Lance mouthed a 'yes' and Keith hurried to finish. He made sure though to keep a large swathe of pilfered robe though because no doubt Lance was going to gain another new wound tonight and they would need it to staunch the bleeding. He idly wondered where it would be before shoving the dark thought away. Not now.

"How're you feeling?" Keith asked. "Scale of one to ten with ten being perfectly okay. And be honest." He saw Lance wince at that last bit, no doubt going to say something like he was at an eight. Idiot.

After a few seconds Lance decided on 'five.' Keith nodded. That was… fair. And then Lance mouthed back 'you?' and it was Keith's turn to wince.

"Better than before," he said. "I'm less tired." Lance pursed his lips and Keith sighed. "Eight, in terms of physical condition. I'll manage until the rescue." Lance's face softened into a small smile and Keith returned it.

"We have a lot to do in four hours," Keith said. "But I have decided not to… to reseal your hands." Lance practically wilted with relief and Keith felt the too familiar surge of guilt. "Water is first though. I think I might know where we can find some, but we have to walk. Do you think you can, if I help you? It's about maybe thirty dobashes."

And as he'd suspected, Lance gave a nod.

"All right. Let's get you up then."

Keith slipped an arm beneath Lance's lower back and lifted him to sitting, not missing the way he felt Lance's breath hitch in pain. They stayed like that for a few seconds for Lance to regain his equilibrium a bit and Keith picked up and secured the pack of robes Lance had been using as a pillow to his belt. The four empty canteens were already all thrown over his chest and the food pouch also attached with the map.

"Ready?" Keith asked, maneuvering himself into a crouch so he could pull Lance up, draping Lance's left arm about his shoulders. Another nod.

He rose slowly so Lance could get his long legs underneath him. Keith felt the moment Lance's feet began to bore some of his weight because of the sharp intake of breath he felt through Lance's back.

"You're doing great," he encouraged, the words rolling off his tongue with surprising ease. And within the next few ticks they were both standing, although Lance was leaning forward slightly to compensate for the height difference.

He was trembling, like a newborn foal standing on its own for the first time. Keith resecured his arm more firmly about Lance, gripping him under the arm, while Lance's left tightened almost uncomfortably about Keith's neck.

"If it gets to be too much you tell me," Keith ordered. "Got it?"

A wane smile was his answer.

They moved slowly, but they moved. Lance was holding his own as best he could despite that he was clearly in pain with every step. It really put into perspective how much worse Lance had gotten in just a day. Just about this time yesterday Lance had been able to keep up a steady jog while they worked to evade the Mackans.

Then again, he'd also only had a single wound and his sight at that point. Keith's hand tightened, trying to take more of Lance's weight if he could.

Keith couldn't view the map, but as they rounded a sharp curve in this new canyon trail he knew that what he'd guessed was the water source shouldn't be more than a few minutes further. He stopped, nearly tripping Lance at the sudden halt.

His ears twitched, seeking any sound that might indicate an ambush ahead. Nothing. It was still disconcerting.

The part of the trail they were in was nothing special and just as wide as the rest of it; about eight feet across. But it did have the advantage of the blind curve protecting them from immediate eyes and so it was here Keith lowered Lance down, Lance's legs practically collapsing beneath him.

"I'm going to scout ahead," Keith told him quietly. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

And although he'd done it several times now, Keith still couldn't help the flinch as Lance looked pleadingly towards him, fear filling those dulled blue eyes.

"Promise." Keith backed up. "Just a few minutes."

And he meant to keep that promise. This was just a scouting mission; he would not engage. If there were Mackans up ahead then they just would not be getting any water right now and force themselves to make do. Somehow.

Keeping along one of the cliff walls, Keith carefully made his way further down the trail, knife preemptively drawn. But nothing so much as stirred and it only made him more uneasy.

If he were a Mackan and he knew this potential water source was here, he'd have staked it out. And even if he didn't spot any actual Mackans there was no telling if they'd set some type of magical trap. He tried to reassure himself that so far every bit of magic he'd seen had a colored light to it and hopefully it worked the same way for traps.

The trail was going on a steeper incline now; so sharp Keith wasn't honestly sure Lance would be able to traverse it. He followed it, bracing himself against the wall. The temperature here was cooler, a welcome relief. But in a few hours Keith knew they'd be longing for the heat.

He really hated this planet.

There was still no sound of claws on stone as Keith neared a flattening of the trail, but there was the faintest sound of burbling. A satisfied smile tugged at his face. Water.

He didn't lower his guard for an instant as he crept closer, following the sound until he spotted it, just like the previous time a small underground reservoir under a hollowed part of the cliff face. Keith waited, perched several feet from the water's edge as he strained to detect anything unnatural.

Still nothing.

The Mackans had to know the water was here Keith thought as he opened the first canteen and shoved it under, hair prickling. It was on their map after all. They had to know.

So what was this?

He stuck the second canteen under, amethyst eyes warily watching the trail. It was either stupidity or some weird sense of mercy. Maybe a combination of both. The two Mackans had said the High Priest was waiting to enact the third Sin before they attacked. So was this some sort of cease fire until then?

Keith snorted at the absurdity of it. He appreciated it, of course, but really? They chose to show some semblance of humanity now after all they'd done and what they still wanted to do?

He filled up the fourth canteen then, but rather than stoppering it took several loud gulps and then dumped the rest over his head. The water was lukewarm at best, but it felt so good. He shook his head like a wet dog and refilled the canteen.

Not wasting any more time, Keith hurried back up the trail, water clunking against his sides with a reassuring weight. Lance was exactly as he'd left him, slumped against the cliff wall but perking up as Keith approached, head cocked like a puppy.

"Got water," Keith said in greeting. "Want some?"

He chuckled at Lance's expression and joined him on the ground, uncapping one of the canteens and holding it up to Lance's mouth, allowing him a few sips.

"You can have more in a bit, let that settle," he said in response to the wounded look he got. "Here though, try this."

He tipped the canteen a bit over Lance's head, the water soaking into brown locks and dripping down Lance's face. Lance's initial reaction had been to stiffen – and Keith realized maybe he should have told him what he was planning to do – but then he grinned, holding his tongue out to catch some of the droplets falling off his bangs.

He glanced at Keith once the fall stopped, that contagious grin looking for more.

"Last time," Keith smiled. He didn't even feel bad that that was one canteen nearly gone. Not when it brought such an expression to Lance's face.

They settled into a companionable silence then as Lance closed his eyes and tilted his head back on the sun-warmed rock, which was becoming more of a comfortable heat instead of an oppressive one as the suns began to trek out of the sky. Keith's eyes traced past Lance's head to track the sun, barely visible from this vantage thanks to the high cliff.

The high cliff. An idea started to form.

"We need to start planning," Keith said, letting the thought grow.

Lance's expression grew more serious and he nodded, leaning forward a bit.

"We have about an hour and a half left of light," Keith said. "Before it gets dark we need to be ready for the Mackans." Even as he said it he felt a twinge of guilt as Lance's eyes lowered. Of course daylight only mattered to him. He reached out and gave Lance's shoulder a tiny pat and continued on. "I've been thinking we still need to keep heading east. It'll do us no good to be away from the Lions. According to the map where we are now it's still about, rough estimate, at least ten miles back to the Lions. We really swung wide through those plains."

Lance winced at the announcement. There was no way he was going to be able to walk that far and he knew for a fact Keith could not carry him either.

Keith seemed to read his mind. "We obviously aren't going to get as close as we'd like. But I thought we'd do the next best thing." He paused, the idea taking root. "We'll try and be spotted from the air."

Lance's eyes widened in realization.

"We go up," Keith confirmed. "Right now we're back in some sort of canyon, but from as far as I can tell we haven't actually been sloping down like the last one. If we were to scale the walls here I don't think it'll be a rim but an actual cliff face on the other side. We'd be well out of immediate range of the Mackans that way and be more visible for the extraction."

He'd warmed to the idea even more as he recalled the events from last night. The Mackans had never once even glanced up the cliff even though it hadn't even been twenty feet tall. The one they were in now was easily fifty, possibly sixty feet.

Keith knew it was a wild hope, but it was possible the Mackans wouldn't even be able to smell them if they were that high. They certainly hadn't located him after all. And if the Mackans did eventually smell and find them, the Paladins would have the height advantage. Keith could lob down projectiles of loose rocks and try to keep them at bay and if they were climbing it wasn't likely they could use spells, leaving them defenseless. It was quite literally a rather brilliant solution.

There was only one, rather glaring problem.

As one both Paladins looked to Lance's bandaged hands, burns and wounds hidden beneath them and so tender that any pressure sent tongues of agony stretching across them.

With Lance as injured as that...

...how on earth did he climb up?

xxx

Author's Notes:

Utter hopelessness last chapter but we've come back around. Thank you, Lance, for never giving up despite how bleak it looks. There's always a way they just needed that spark of hope. Gosh, love these two so much.

Y'all are lucky you got this chapter. I was chatting with heyheroics (who, by the way updated chapter three of Echo if you haven't read it yet!) and she reminded me today is Monday, which apparently is the day I update this fic. xD Omg you guys, I'm so discombobulated.

Huge thanks to the reviewers last chapter: Belletiger BT, geekyglamour413, Alexa, MandyRaccoon, TheTheoryofFangirling, someonethe3rd, imagine forevermore, Wolf of the Demise, Pfeh, Justanangryfangirl, yazbk2988, LishaChan, Genni C, WhiteTails, Jennyfish26, Ralyssene118, wingedflower, Adrianna Agray, hobbes101, The-Angst-Chronicles, Subtle Shenanigans, PaintedWings45 and Skiewrites2.0!

This week reviewers get a canteen of water being trickled over their heads by Keith and it feels absolutely delightful. Enjoy!

And last bit; I have a Tumblr, icypantherwrites (someone else took IcyPanther, the nerve) if you'd like to follow! Thank you to those who messaged me thinking someone was copying me. Y'all are so sweet and I love you. I'll primarily be using it to post chapter updates, little snippets, new projects, writing things as well as someday figure out reblogging.

Please do drop a comment! Thank you so much!