A wave of gratitude poured from Kay, who hadn't been certain whether her legs would hold her up anymore. For a few moments, her head swam with dizziness and she feared she would either thow up or pass out. But after taking a few deep breaths to steady herself, she was able to answer "I would be honoured to accept your hospitality, my friend". Then she added "but first I would ask that both of you wait here while I approach the small sisters of our brother. Your strength will be needed if we are all to make it as far as your home, so it would be wise for you to rest a few moments here and conserve it."
Kay then continued, "You should still be able to sense the link, even after our hands are no longer touching. Do not worry about its diminished intensity -- even without my active assistance, your bond will persist. Though it will cause your links to me to grow fainter, I must break physical contact with you in order to block out as many distractions as possible. The strain already tears at me, and will only grow worse the longer I wait. If I am to continue at all, then I must first pray to the Goddess, in order that I might call up enough strength and focus to make contact without dragging us all into insanity".
Leaning against the wall, he agreed to wait, though such a passive role chafed him. He would watch for potential trouble, as would Oberon. The owl seemed to feel a protectiveness toward her as well, and made no secret of the fact that he too wished to do more to help. They both watched with great interest (and no small degfree of puzzlement) as the young woman stumbled a few steps slowly forward on unsteady legs before sinking to her knees.
Kay began to dig blindly through her pouch, pulling forth certain objects and rejecting others. The contents of the small envelope were immediately both swallowed dry as soon they were discovered, with little regard for the harsh price that the stimtabs would later exact.
Finally, a small pile lay in front of her. A small cloth bag plump with tea herbs sat jumbled together with the stub of a sky-blue beeswax candle, an almost-empty Terran matchbook, and a large uneaten meat roll. This would not be a perfect circle. But maybe it would be a good enough approximation to work as she intended. The feelings streaming at her from Ceroill and Oberon had worn down the last of her resistance. Through that link, she felt the joy of the man and the bird for each other. It was as clear as their worry for her. Through them, another pair of even-fainter voices cried out in need. The voices were echoed by an imperative demand from Oberon, who scolded the young woman as if she were an owlet afraid to leave the nest. In response, Kay bowed her head. It was time to begin.