💀Penumbral Lady💀

Gideon has only been this close to her necromancer once before, and she's amazed and startled and a little unsettled by how light she is, like a collection of fragile feathers brushing against Gideon's shoulder. She burns like the heart of Dominicus itself, and Gideon does the unthinkable once again: she puts her arms around her adept, eases them both to the floor, lets Harrow rest against her like she's a sturdy piece of furniture.

"It's okay," she says bracingly. "You're – you're okay." Harrow's breath and the trash bin both smell awful, but Gideon doesn't move. "Hey, Harrow. C'mon, yell at me. That always cheers you up."