Sylara kept her gaze focused on the lower edge of the digital frame. Her translucent fingers twisted the living silk of her dress. "Are the deadlands... stabilizing? The ambient temperature across the western grid must be fluctuating wildly after the anomaly. How is your... recovery progressing?"
Red leaned his elbows on the console. The silver fox on his lap shifted, wrapping its thick tail tighter around itself. "Your moths are fluttering erratically, and you haven't looked at the camera once. Skip the pleasantries. Just tell me why you went out of your way to open a comm-link."
The tight grip on the glowing silk loosened. A slow exhale parted her pale lips, and the frantic insects around her shoulders settled. "Thank you. I greatly appreciate the efficiency."
