Erratic Nerd Writings

Kanor finally passed through the Sickbay doors, the cords of his neck standing out occasionally as each step brought another flood of pain throughout his body.  In the moment, bedding Skid had been marvelous.  The burning sensation of her nails scoring his back, the way she had slammed him against surfaces in her eagerness to have him, the grasping, clutching, bruising feeling of her fingers digging into his flesh.  Even now, recalling the events of last night, he couldn’t stop a grin pulling at his split lips.

“That has got to be the oddest mixture of pained happiness I’ve ever seen on anyone’s face before.  What happened to you, where were you last night?”

Kanor felt…he wasn’t even sure what when Marcie came up to him, coming out of the exam room, situated between her office and the intensive care area of Sickbay.  He had hoped he might be able to dart in without her noticing and have one of the nurses attend to his injuries; indeed, he spotted Ensign Clarke behind her getting up from the nurse station, looking extremely disappointed Marcie had been able to beat her to him.

“I…um…spent the night…elsewhere.”

Comprehension dawned on Marcie’s face, and immediately a blast shield seemed to drop down over her facial features.  For some reason, Kanor couldn’t look at her, so he averted his eyes.

“I…I think I may have rebroken a rib…”

“This way, then.  Let’s see what you’ve done.”

Marcie ran her tricorder over his body silently after Kanor had situated himself on the biobed in the exam room.  He forced himself to look at her as she studied the readouts, the room uncommonly silent.  She wouldn’t meet his gaze, though she surely had to see him looking at her.  Her lips were compressed into a pencil thin line, the ivory skin of her jawline taut.  The developing pain in his chest seemed to be amplified by the weight of their lack of interaction.  He tried to come up with something to say, even as his reactions to the situation angered him, but she beat him to it.

“Well, you didn’t break it again; just gave it a really good bruising.  When it was still trying to heal.”  She put the tricorder away and stepped back.  “You’ll need to remove your jumpsuit so I can get to all those bruises and abrasions.  The whole thing, judging from the locations.”

Kanor frowned a bit as Marcie activated the privacy screening for the room.  Though he had stripped in front of her multiple times at this point-had grown perfectly comfortable around her in that area, really-he felt…disturbed, now.  He bared his teeth silently a few times during the process; some of those abrasions seemed to have melded to his jumpsuit from the holodeck to here.  Marcie at least was busying herself; she had slipped on some gloves and was fussing through some instrumentation with her back turned.

“I am ready.”

Kanor fumed as Marcie turned around and wordlessly began tending to his fresh wounds.  He felt strangely humiliated.  He was a warrior, dammit!  He had only known these people for a matter of days, and besides; he and Marcie were not a couple.  Hell, his relationship with Skid wasn’t even what most would call romantic, though he was certain there was something more than simple physical gratification there.

“For fuck’s sake, did her talons have to scrape so deep?  This is ridiculous!”

Kanor mentally winced at Marcie’s uncharacteristic cursing.  His spine stiffened as he felt her swipe a cleansing and sanitizing agent over the sets of ten gashes marking his back all over.  Her usual gentleness was certainly not present, nor were her customary warnings of “this might sting a little”.  He tried to bite his tongue, but couldn’t.  He felt indignation flaring up.

“Well it certainly felt good at the time.”

She stopped, leaving her fingers pressed against one of the open wounds and creating a burning sensation that made his throat constrict.

“You WANT me to leave these as they are?”

“No!”

“Shut the hell up, then, and let me do my job.”

Kanor sat in a sullen silence on the biobed as Marcie cleaned the fresh blood from his body, then began applying the dermal regenerator.  He and Skid had taken a moment to bathe together before leaving the holodeck; he, to remove certain evidence from his body before going to Sickbay, where Skid had convinced him to go not understanding his reluctance to, and she, to get ready for her duty shift.  Not all of the wounds had scabbed over yet, however.  Marcie certainly didn’t spare his bruised ribs as she was taking care of his front side, despite the boney ridges that protected his chest due to his Klingon heritage.  Skid had found the ridges on his chest, spine, and feet sexy.

“Well, saying as how Ensign Clarke is still walking this morning, and Ensign Te’ara was on the overnight shift last night, I can only assume Skid will be stopping by later today with similar injuries.”

A rumbling of a growl rattled Kanor’s throat.

“I don’t see how that is any of your concern!”

She finally met his eyes for the first time since first finding out, and Kanor felt a pair of blades stabbing into his eight-chambered heart in the form of blue orbs.

“No, I suppose it’s not.”

The oppressive silence returned, and Kanor berated himself for forming an attachment with Marcie that obviously wasn’t going to go anywhere from the start.  The soreness he had been feeling between his legs was apparently due to actual deep bruising he had endured down there, not overuse.  That had been an awkward few moments as she tended to that.  Marcie finished tending to the rest of his injuries, leaving the minor ones to heal on their own.  Ordering him to remain still, she returned from the replicator a few moments later with a fresh jumpsuit and a hypospray.

“This is to keep the inflammation under control, and speed along the healing process.  Once a day.  You might want to make...future antics less physically demanding, at least for a few days.  You know, like I told you to do in the first place when you left here yesterday.  I’m not going to bother with a pain suppressant; maybe that’ll remind you to listen to your Doctor.”

Kanor, pulling on the new jumpsuit as she talked, was surprised that Marcie seemed to have gotten the measurements and molecular composition of his jumpsuits down so exactly.  The sight of her eyes looking at him as she said that phrase earlier twisted his insides anew when it sprang up in his mind’s eye, unbidden.

“I will endeavor to do so.”

Marcie inclined her head slightly; then, without saying another word, deactivated the privacy screening and headed back to her office.

Kanor watched her go; trying to think of something to say, trying to make sense of the writhing thoughts going through his brain, but unable to do so.  He slammed his fist down against the biobed, taking some small pleasure in the normally resilient surface denting in.  He clung to the sensations it created in his hand and shot up his arm as he got to his feet.  Ensign Clarke poked her head around the door, her face lighting up as she saw him still there.  The enthusiasm in her voice faltered as his mood got across to her, however.

“Kanor!  Couldn’t stay away from us, huh, big guy?  Is…is everything okay…?”

“No, no it is not.”

He pushed his way past her and stormed out of Sickbay.

                                                                           *****

Kanor got to his feet as the door chimes sounded.  After returning, he had taken some time to prepare his quarters for the visitor he was about to receive, trying not to dwell on the fact Cypher had informed him Marcie had slept here last night.  Apparently she had also tidied up his quarters while he had been laid up in Sickbay.  On one hand, the way she came and went inside his living space was troubling.  On the other, it was a bit…endearing, that she cared in that fashion.

“Enter.”

Munson stepped in, stopping just outside the office area Kanor was standing in.  There was a moment as they both looked at each other; each of them standing with their legs apart, their arms crossed behind their backs, their chin up just a slight bit.  Assessing each other.  Kanor ensuring he didn’t look like he was in the pain he was in.

“Ensign Munson reporting as requested.”

No “sir”, slight emphasis on the word “requested”.  Kanor approved of Munson’s response. 

“Have a seat, Ensign.  I’d like to discuss our mission to the planet the other day.”

Kanor hadn’t informed Skid, or Kaz, he was contacting Munson.  But after returning from Sickbay, his thoughts in turmoil, his temper simmering, he had to have some sort of outlet for all of this energy.  He couldn’t really get his blood pumping in the gym.  He didn’t want to risk injuring himself again and be forced to go through another awkward situation with the ship’s doctor.  When he was riled up like this, he couldn’t focus enough to think critically scientifically.  Security and tactics were instinctive, however.  And he was positive, unlike himself, Munson had much better self control.

Munson took the seat at the small table he had gestured towards; Kanor carefully settled across from him.  He wasn’t sure Munson would respond to the message; figured he might check with Skid or Kaz first, be ordered to stay away unless “supervised”.  Kanor was glad he hadn’t.  This was the first time they had interacted with each other since the incident at the armory.

“What is there to discuss?  I put everything in my log; I was informed you had been given access to it.”

“I was.  I wanted to talk with you about observations I made during the events.  Observations I didn’t include in MY report.”

Munson frowned, shifting in his chair, his back straightening even more, impossibly.

“The report which I WASN’T given access to.”

Kanor kept his expression impassive, though he was surprised.  He had assumed Munson had been given access to everyone’s logs on the situation like he had been.  Quickly reviewing everything he had said, he reached out for a PADD, pulled up his report, and then slid it across the table to Munson.

“Then by all means, feel free to read.”

Munson took the PADD, glanced at it for a moment, then returned it to the table.

“You mentioned observations NOT in your report.”

“Who was responsible for the majority of the security team’s training?”

Munson’s eyes narrowed.

“Most currently, the late Lieutenant Sh’lan, who was Chief of Security for the longest period of time since I’ve been aboard Enterprise.  I’m aware his…doctrines were subpar.  One of my first acts as acting Chief of Security was to begin remedial training for the security department.  It’s…been an act in progress.  I’ve gone over the initial suggestions you presented to Skid and have been setting things in motion in regards to those as well.”

Kanor was impressed Munson was honest about the blatant shortcomings.  He had been expecting denial, anger over wounded pride and the like.  Hoping for, actually, he realized.  He studied the Ensign’s face for a moment, watched the young man’s teeth seem to grind, watched what he said next and the way it seemed to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

“If you have professional suggestions on ways we could improve, I would be open to hearing them.  That IS one of the reasons why you’re here, isn’t it?  To consult?”

For the next hour, Kanor and Munson talked about things that had happened on the mission, and training techniques in general.  Though it was obvious some of Kanor’s observations grated at Munson’s tolerance, not once did the man lash out; not even when Kanor baited him intentionally.  Munson seemed genuinely interested and devoted in doing what he could to improve his team, and protect the ship and her crew.  Though Kanor had been hoping for a fight-if not physical, at least verbally-he found himself instead developing a grudging respect for the human.  His grasp and understanding of the topic matters was intuitive.  With more experience, he would be a formidable opponent.

“What about the preventative measures we’ve been taking for our next encounter with the Benders?  Has Selorus been in contact with you?”

Munson scowled at mention of the Romulan’s name.

“Barely.  I’ve gathered he and Skid are attempting to develop something that will block or diffuse their telepathy so we might actually stand a chance.  Not be caught up fighting illusions.  Other than that, I don’t really have any information to prepare my people with.”

“I gather you’re not exactly fond of Selorus.”

Munson frowned, thinking over his next words.

“That was one thing Sh’lan was trying to dig up information about before, and had a difficult time of doing so.  Selorus’ past.”

Kanor shrugged.

“We’re not exactly a group of exemplary model citizens from our respective cultures.  Besides, Romulans are always surrounded by secrets.”

“Sh’lan was under the impression Selorus might have been, if not still was, a part of the Tal Shiar.”

Kanor’s eyebrows leapt up at the mention of the Romulan secret police organization.  Its existence wasn’t secret; no, more like infamous.  Every Romulan citizen held a healthy fear of the Tal Shiar if they were smart.  Its members, their methods, their capabilities…those were the secrets.  The organization was used like a military force in its own right; not only against hostile nations, but against their own people.

“They’re not known for their leniency.  If he was a former member, why….”

“Exactly.  If he’s formerly associated with them, how is he still drawing breath?  Sh’lan was an idiot most of the time, but that was one theory of his I’m more inclined to believe than doubt.”

Things seemed to rapidly click into place in Kanor’s brain.  Selorus’ confidence in the way he carried himself; his ease with physical combat.  The above-average paranoia he exhibited for a simple science officer.  Images of the advanced bugging equipment that had been in Kanor’s quarters when he had first arrived flashed through his mind. 

“How long has he been aboard Enterprise?”

“A little over a year.  He’s the newest officer to the senior staff.”

“And Kaz chose him, not Stapes?”

“Kaz did, yes.  There are more senior science crewmembers, but Selorus not only was interested in the position, he’s good at it.  The last Science officer had nothing but glowing remarks concerning his performance.”

Kanor’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“And what happened to HIM?”

“SHE was killed.  An incident while planetside on a mission.  I wasn’t involved, but Sh’lan was in charge of the team, and made the executive decision to kill her to protect the crew.  She had contracted some sort of indigenous virus that hadn’t shown up on our scans.  Kaz was furious.”

“Was Selorus involved?”

“No, he was on board Enterprise.  Manning the bridge station while she was planetside, actually.  Her own recommendation, that he get bridge experience.” 

Kanor’s frown deepened.  Not likely Selorus was involved, but he had a hard time ruling it out completely.  His gaze met Munson’s across the table.  Knowing that tidbit of information about Selorus made Munson a target; he had to know that. 

“How many people know about this…impression of Sh’lan’s?”

“Living?  Far as I know, the people in this room.”

Kanor mulled over that and all its implications for a long moment.  Munson wasn’t stupid; that much was clearly obvious to Kanor now, after the past hour.  Inexperienced, yes, but not stupid.

“And you told me this because…?”

Munson’s eyes drifted away for a moment as he sorted out his response, but snapped back to Kanor as he answered.

“I don’t trust you, you haven’t earned that yet.  You’re not a part of this crew.  But you’re clearly good at what you do, and have experience I don’t.  Yet.  Though I don’t like you-I should think for obvious reasons-it’s clear to me Skid has a higher opinion of you than she’s willing to admit, and I do trust her.  I’ve seen you in action twice, now.  If Selorus IS a Tal Shiar agent, you are the only person aboard this ship I don’t mind giving that information out to.”

Kanor interrupted him.

“Because if he somehow finds out I know, comes after me, and wins; you’ve gotten rid of me, and know what Selorus is capable of.  Might even be able to strike at him while he’s distracted.  And if I win…same thing, in reverse.  Either way, you and the people you do trust and like are safe.”

Munson simply stared at Kanor impassively.  Kanor’s respect for Munson’s capabilities went up a bit higher.

“Assuming he is, why hasn’t he already taken you out?  Before I came along?”

“I wasn’t a part of Sh’lan’s crowd.  He used me because he knew I was one of the best damn crew members he had, but he didn’t trust me.  He knew where my loyalties lie, as would Selorus.  Sh’lan didn’t trust many; Ensign Travers, that limping woman that…died in the scuffle in Kaz’s office, she was his right hand gal, amongst other things.  She thought if she stuck to Sh’lan, she could ride him, and his success and favoritism by Stapes, all the way to an officer’s pay grade.  I overheard them talking about Selorus by accident, and managed to keep the fact I knew what they were doing about digging into his past a secret.  I’m certain he didn’t tell anyone else, and both of them are dead, thanks to you.”

“Why haven’t you reported it to Kaz?”

“Kaz trusts him, or he wouldn’t have promoted him to Chief Science officer.  He may already know about Selorus and his past, but trusts that it’s in the past.”

“And…this doesn’t assuage your feelings of mistrust for a senior staff member your commanding officer believes is worthy of trusting, regardless of previous organizations he may have been a part of?”

“If I’m to be chief of security, it’s my job to not trust people.  Especially those Kaz does.”

Kanor’s respect for Munson went up yet again.  He filed that information away in his head and directed their conversation back along the tract it had originally been on.

“Have you talked to Skid or Selorus about keeping you more in the loop about these Benders?”

“Selorus replied ‘when you need to know, I will inform you’.  I…haven’t found a good time to bring it up to Skid yet.”

Kanor gestured towards the PADD Munson had discarded that had his report on it as he got to his feet.  Again, carefully.  Too many things hurting in his body right now.

“Read my report, it’ll at least give you a description of whatever that thing was.  It’s not much, but from what I gather, it’s more than what everyone else down there saw.”  He paused a moment, then continued.  “I’ll also see to it you get access to ALL the other people’s reports that were down on the planet.  We barely know anything about these ‘Benders’; you and your people need to know as much as possible so you can be as prepared as you can be next time we run into them.”

Munson picked up the PADD, albeit with a sense of trepidation.  He looked up at Kanor, his eyes narrowed slightly. 

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see if Skid and Selorus can be more open with this technology they’re working on developing.  Maybe they have good reasons for keeping you in the dark, but it could also be old habits.  Your predecessor wasn’t well liked, as we all know; they probably tried to keep him out of things as much as they could.  When is your next remedial training session?”

Munson replied without thinking.

“0900.”

“And would this session be open to outsiders…?”

Munson frowned, seemingly annoyed at himself by responding to Kanor’s question.  He stood as well, holding the PADD in his left hand.

“In what capacity?”

“Another pair of eyes.”

Munson was silent for a few moments, his jaw working beneath his skin as he decided.

“Tomorrow’s will be, yes.  In the gymnasium.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow in the gymnasium at 0900, then, Munson.”

Munson hesitated, then awkwardly stuck out his right hand, arm outstretched.  Kanor had heard of and seen this human custom before, but hadn’t experienced it himself.  He decided to return it, and took Munson’s right hand in his own.  What might have been a…grimace briefly flashed over Munson’s features, though it was so flitting he couldn’t be sure.  Perhaps he had done it wrong.  Munson’s voice didn’t indicate any sort of emotional response, at least.

“I look forward to it.”

                                                                           *****

“Kaz INSISTED you NOT meet with Munson WITHOUT me!  Were you picking a fight AGAIN?”

“Actually, I was, yes.”

Skid threw up her hands in frustration while making a noise halfway between a growl and a scream.  Kanor found the lower half of his body responding quite nicely to Skid’s presence in his quarters, despite all the aches and pains, especially now that he knew just how wonderful she looked without that pesky work suit of hers.  He was sitting in the office at his computer desk when she had stormed into his quarters, her temper as brightly lit up as her hair.

“What the bloody fookin hell is wrong with ye!  Dammit, Kanor, bloody fookin DAMN IT!”

“Did you receive a complaint from Munson about our interaction?”

“No!  He simply told me he had already talked with you when I asked him about a good time to set up a meeting with you.  Made me look like a fuckin incompetent!”

“Did you inform Munson not to interact with me unless accompanied by yourself?”

“No!  But ye knew bloody well we didn’t want you two in the same room with each other after your little DISPLAY…”

“Then maybe, if you had informed Munson of this wish, our meeting wouldn’t have occurred.”

That brought Skid’s incessant pacing back and forth to an abrupt halt.  She shot him a fiery look that made his loins flare with desire.

“He’s NOT Sh’lan, you know.”

“I know who the fook he is, thank you VERY much.”

“Then you shouldn’t keep him out of the loop on things.  If he’s supposed to be the interim, if not future, Chief of Security, he needs to be informed so he can do his job.”

“What, one bloody meetin, and the two of you are now bosom buddies?!”

“It certainly helped me attain a new…respect for him, yes.  Which is why I question why you’re so angry with me, though I have to admit, it is DAMN sexy.”

Her eyes narrowed and she growled at him, stepping in closer to stab a finger against his chest.  Because of his already bruised and battered body, it actually hurt.

“Get one thing straight, right here, and right now.  Our…relations last night do NOT mean you have some sort of right to my body.  Or me.”

She stabbed her finger against his chest again.  It hurt.  Again.

“So before ye go on thinkin you can piss me the fook off and still have a slim chance in HELL of getting into my pants, THINK AGAIN!  What part of ‘FRIENDS’ and ‘COMPANIONSHIP’ failed to get through your thick skull?!  I’m not your replacement hand!”

Kanor growled, his nostrils flaring with his own rising anger.  Her implications, her yelling, were pissing HIM off.

“I have NEVER thought of you as some sort of REPLACEMENT for my hand!  And I am quite capable of understanding companionship!”

“So meeting up with Munson to pick a fight, AGAIN, was your way of saying ‘hey, Skid, let me show you how trustworthy I am by going behind your back!’, is THAT it?”

She stabbed her finger against his chest again as she said the word “that”, and something in Kanor snapped.  He leaped to his feet, leaning his face in towards her as she backed up from his height towering over her.

“NO!  It’s because I was FUCKING angry at myself for hurting someone I realized I cared about!  And I don’t even FUCKING understand why!”

Kanor’s chest heaved, his fists tightly balled up at his sides as he looked down at Skid with his teeth clenched.  Her eyes were wide, her face slack with shock and, he was utterly ashamed to see, fear.  He felt all the anger get deflated out of him by that look on her face.  He closed his eyes and turned his face away from her, taking a few steps back until his desk bit into the back of his legs. He let himself lean on it.

“I’m….I’m sorry…” he mumbled.

Skid was silent at first, but he heard her step up to him, felt her hand touch a shoulder tentatively.  Her voice was soft when she finally did speak.

“What…what do you mean, you hurt someone?”

Kanor sighed, trying to make sense of the thoughts running through his head.

“In Sickbay, when I went to have Marcie fix me up this morning.”

His eyes were still closed, so he missed the look of confusion on Skid’s face, but he could hear it in her voice.

“Why would Marcie care if you and I…?”

He lifted his face and opened his eyes to look at her.

“Because Marcie and I have been…sleeping-JUST sleeping-together, every night we could since I came aboard.”

Skid’s eyes practically bulged out of her eye sockets.

“MARCIE!?  Sweet and innocent MARCIE?!”

“Like I said, it WAS sweet and innocent.  We never did anything, she never even disrobed fully, we just…cuddled.  Held each other while we slept, sometimes we talked.”

Skid’s eyebrows were practically up into her own hairline.

“That’s still…wow.  I mean…WOW.  I know you love women; you never…?”

Kanor rolled his eyes. 

“Of course I find her attractive; she IS attractive, physically and otherwise.  But…I mean she never seemed to show any interest in me in that fashion.  She even stated once she was glad I wasn’t trying to just fuck her.  And I mean she actually SAID that word!”

Skid lifted her hand from his shoulder and placed the palm of it against her face, shaking her head.

“Oh Kanor…”

“She always talked about how we were going to be great FRIENDS.  Not a couple, not mates, JUST FRIENDS.”

Skid sighed, removing her hand from her face and looking at him, a look of…disappointment seeming to be on her features.

“You’re absolutely hopeless sometimes. Tell me what happened this morning.”

Kanor retold the events of that morning in Sickbay to Skid, and how he had felt uncomfortable with Marcie’s reaction to the news of their fun-filled evening and the anger it had roused within him.  How, unable to vent that frustration out in any other fashion he was more accustomed to, he had contacted Munson, hoping to incite the security officer into a verbal altercation to blow off some steam.

“I’m sure my stopping by Sickbay during my break didn’t help matters any either…I thought she must have just had a bad day…”

Skid proceeded to tell him of her own run-in with Marcie.  Her moodiness, her uncharacteristic sullen, brusque behavior while taking care of the worst of Skid’s wounds before passing her off to Ensign Clarke.

“And SHE was in a snippy mood herself.  I thought it was something between the two of them; I suppose that’s not entirely off the mark.  Well, aren’t you quite the Casanova…”

“The what…?”

“Nevermind.  Look, ye said you realized ye hurt her, and it made you angry; that you cared about her.  Why didn’t ye say something last night…?”

Kanor shrugged.

“I didn’t think to.  Marcie and I were just friends.  It wasn’t until afterwards I wondered HOW she would take it…”

“…and when ye saw that she was taking it badly, and was hurt by it, it made YOU upset and angry because…?”

Kanor frowned.  What was the point of this line of questioning?

“Because I don’t want her to be upset and hurt because of me…?”

“Boyo, it sounds to me like you’ve got a lot of thinking to do.”

Kanor’s brow furrowed even further.

“Thinking?  About what?”

“About what yer intentions are, and what yer feelings are concerning Marcie.”

“I don’t see why I need to be thinking about those more in depth.  If anything, I think I’d like to FORGET about those thoughts, not dwell on them.”

“Which is precisely why ye need to be thinkin on them.”

Kanor looked at her in consternation, but she didn’t explain herself further.

“You’re right.  We need to include Munson more in what’s going on; he’s NOT Sh’lan.  I’ll see to it he’s more involved in what’s going on, and…”

Kanor interjected, convinced to make some of the headway he had wanted to in her visit.  Anything that wasn’t talking about Marcie even more.

“He hasn’t gotten the clearance to review all of the reports on the incident back on that planet.  AND we should BOTH be more involved in the development of this stop-measure against the Benders.”

Skid nodded, making her way over to the foyer of his quarters as she did.

“Ayup, yeah, you’re right.  I’ll make sure te talk with the rest of the senior staff tomorrow; ensure we all realize how he’s being shunned based off of the norm we’ve adopted under a different regime.  He’ll have access to those reports, too.”

He had followed her from the office to the entrance, where she stopped and turned towards him, looking up at him.  Her expression was warm, the corners of her mouth turning up in a slight smile.

“Thank you, Youngblood, for bringing it up.  I’m sorry I got so bleedin antagonistic; I thought ye were up to yer old tricks.”

Kanor stepped closer, reaching up to touch her left cheek lightly with his right hand.

“Skid, I…”

She stood up on her tiptoes and planted a light kiss to his lips as she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a quick hug.  His nostrils were filled with that scent of hers; earthy and wildflowery.

“Good night, Kanor.”