They came back to Greytip just in time to see him devouring a fish roughly the size of his own head whole as it wriggled and fought against him. He threw his neck back a few times making the fish sink deeper and deeper until he was able to simply push the fish down the last part of his throat. He turned his attention to them and clacked his beak a few times.

"We need to head back soon. Things in the beneath come up in the dark."

"I might have something coming up as well," said Pyotr with a frown.

"I was just considering asking if there were any female winged back at the village," replied Ollie with a wink.

Michael shook his head. "We're good to go, thank you."

Greytip nodded and they all carefully got back onto the boat. The trip back was uneventful aside from some large dark shapes in the water and a bit of surprise when a few of the glowing bugs they'd seen in the fishing village landed on the boat. Michael and Marcus were both quiet, still recovering from what Veras had brought out of them. Michael had initially expected the goddess of love to be something warm and kind, and there was some of that to how she spoke to him and how her presence touched his mind, but he'd forgotten that love has other aspects that are harder to deal with. Love can be hungry. It can be desperate. Love can eat at you and its absence can drive you mad.

They arrived back at the fishing village and Marcus paid Greytip the other half of his fee for their safe return. He took the coin with a clack of his beak and quickly made it disappear into a pouch somewhere in the folds of his feathers.

"Do you have a place we can rest for the night?" asked Michael, taking the lead since Marcus seemed too out of it to take the role of lead negotiator.

"We have extra nests, yes yes. But they are for hatchlings. Our beds would not suit your frail forms."

"What about storage buildings? Just a place with a roof we could put our bedrolls in?"

Greytip cocked his head for a moment and clacked his beak a few more times. "Follow." He hopped along the dock and got to more solid ground before they reached a small shack on the edge of the village. It smelled vaguely of smoke and inside was a large stone fireplace and several long intersecting beams toward the ceiling.

"You can stay here for the night. Don't use the smokehouse much. Prefer them wet and wriggling."

Michael nodded at Greytip. "Thank you, you've been a great help."

"I always help those who pay me to help them, yes."

With that, the seagull-like winged hopped away and flew a short distance to land on a nearby roof and rub his face against a smaller seagull with the same coloring as him. Michael felt a pang in his chest at it and heard a whimsical sigh from Veras as he watched the brief exchange.

Everyone filed into the smokehouse and laid out their bedrolls, getting comfortable and snacking on some of the provisions they'd brought. For Michael that meant salted fish and some trail mix. He never cared much for fish in his old body, but his new one would've probably been in heaven if he lived in Scandinavia and was regularly able to eat pickled herring and lutefisk. Once he was full, he wordlessly went to his bedroll and went to sleep. Even Ollie had the good sense not to bother him and Marcus as they tried to mentally steady themselves.

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Sleep proved not to be as restorative as he'd hoped, with his dreams filled with memories and fantasies of Sara. He found himself tossing and turning all night as the thoughts of her tore at him and he woke up distinctly uncomfortable and in dire need of a cold shower more than once. Apparently love encompassed lust as well, not that it was all that big of a jump.

Michael got an early start to the morning and took some time to train before the others were up. He dedicated a few hundred swings of his new mace to Bruntus, and took some extra time to thank Nykas for making his path cross with Greytips. The winged's comments were strange and oddly worded, but they were also very funny, and Michael appreciated that.

By the time the others woke up, Michael had calmed down quite a bit. Sleep hadn't helped, but rote repetition of movements in the cool and humid morning air seemed to help tremendously.

They all armored up, gathered their things and started to make their way back to Southwind. There was less mist that morning, and in general the two days it took to get back were uneventful. Marcus started to talk again on the third day, a good amount of his humor having seemed to return to him.

The whispers that Michael had grown used to from the gods were growing less quiet and more coherent. He wasn't sure if that was because he was better able to interpret them now that he'd mentally separated them out from the divine, or if it was his efforts to strengthen them that had had that effect. Either way he missed the whispers quite a bit. The new voices were loud and discordant, and he had to make a real effort to push them back from the forefront of his mind and into the background. He could still hear them there, but it was less intrusive.

They reached Southwind on the third day and saw that while they'd been busy, everyone else in Gemini had been taking their downtime very seriously. Devahn was cooking elaborate meals across the farmhouse's kitchen as well as several outdoor fires. There were wine bottles and barrels of ale strewn all across the ground. A number of lewd noises were coming from various tents, and more than a dozen men and women seemed to be sleeping in the mud.

Michael took some time to tilt a few of those who'd passed out's heads to the side and healed them as he walked back to the tents. The rest of the group went straight there, not because they were tired, but because they wanted to join the party before it was all over. Once Michael had finished taking a moment to heal a woman that seemed to have banged her head when she passed out, he saw Trina jogging.

He waved to her and she smiled as she adjusted her run to reach him.

"Michael, you're back!"

"I am. Looks like you've kept up your training without me."

She nodded. She was barely huffing even though just a short while ago she would've been dead on her feet.

"Lys has been helping me more, and the twins have been giving me a few lessons too."

Michael nodded approvingly. "That's great." He looked around. "I do hope you've done at least some celebrating. Or got some rest?"

"I mean, I had a few glasses of wine with Lys and Clara."

Michael frowned.

Trina raised an eyebrow. "You spent the entire time travelling and trying to find another god, I don't really think that you have much room to talk."

Michael opened his mouth to argue, but shrugged. "You got me, I'm standing on sand here. Not much solid ground for me."

She nodded. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a run to finish."

He smiled as she took off again, keeping a solid pace and using the people he'd just adjusted as obstacles to jump over or avoid to increase the efficacy of her workout.

Michael made his way back to his tent and stripped off his armor and weapons before crawling into it. It was still early morning, but he decided to have a quick nap before he found some other way to keep busy.

After his restorative nap, Michael took a moment to bathe in the large basin he'd been using since they'd gone to the farmhouse. Unlike the previous times where he'd been ignored, the celebratory attitude in the air and flowing wine meant he instead got a lot of wolf-whistles and flirtatious cries from the women of the company, and a few of the men. He ignored them and focused on cleaning himself.

Once he was done and dressed he decided he should take some time to check in with Lys. He may be a workaholic, and as Trina said he may have spent most of this little break working, but that doesn't mean he was completely opposed to celebration. Besides, he had to find something to offer up to Veras. He would probably be sticking with brotherly love and camaraderie most of the time, but while the wine was flowing and there was a jovial energy to the camp, he had another way of praying in mind, and it was something he'd need Lys's help with.

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