Descending the grassy sands of the Strand, Petra Venj hears the familiar roar of the Dreaming City, caught in another predictable brawl. She notes streaks of glass and scorch along the sand where dead Scorn line the beach and continues moving. Chitin ashes away as she strides through the Gardens of Esila. She moves unhindered; travel is never easier than in the wake of a Guardian. She smiles—maybe she would meet them there. Her spirits fade when she reaches Amrita's cave and sees no Guardian waiting. It seems they crashed through the city and left. Their attention drawn by some greater battle raging elsewhere. Petra minds her footing as she clambers down the slick cave rock and kneels beside the Corsair. "Something for the pain?" Corsair Amrita tries to stand, winces, and slouches back against the stone wall. "Oh, you got my distress signal?" "I just assumed you were in distress." Petra smiles and removes a small pouch labeled "Amrita," as well as a finely carved wooden applicator. Several other named pouches dangle from her belt. "Safe bet…" Amrita chuckles, voice trailing in soft, tense coughs, and unsteady breathing. "Stop trying to get up." Petra whisks the contents of the pouch with the applicator, stirring an aroma of mint, aloe, and musk into the air. Amrita watches her work the mixture over. Too forceful, and the salve would separate. Too soft, and it wouldn't properly adhere or harden in the air. It was a test of consistency, attention, and discipline. "I think… I'd just like to go now. Wake up from the beginning." Amrita doesn't look up from Petra's hands until they stop. "Let me apply the salve." Petra reaches toward Amrita's stomach, a Hive Splinter spike still hot in her gut. Amrita grips Petra's arm as a spasm twists her gut, voice almost a whisper. "I don't want to do this anymore, Petra." The words were stark with grit. "I don't want you to, either," Petra says, her eyes meeting Amrita's. "But you don't have to suffer needlessly." Petra nods to her arm. Amrita lets go and shifts her armor off the wound. "Thank you…" Petra smears a thick coating of salve over the burnt, cauterized flesh, which douses the spike and sooths the inflammation. Amrita exhales and leans forward. "Go, you've spent enough time with me." "I'll be back, sister." Petra grabs Amrita's hand and squeezes it. "We'll find a way out. Just not today."