Healin' isn't, ether. [Fang shifted her embrace to more comfortably support her Bonded's weight. That glimpse of grasping darkness would haunt her, add to her worries, but... being strong for Chariot was easier than being strong for herself.]

Guilt's like rot. It poisons you and festers in those wounds if you don't do anything about it. [Fang's jaw clenched, her throat suddenly feeling tight again. A fierce, but somber, feeling rose in the Bond, something that blurred the line between desperate and determined.] I've seen what it does. I'm sure as hell not gonna watch you slip away, too.