Even if I was emotionally debating whether to worry about the boys, there was no way I had the mental energy.
My brain was currently a soggy sponge from the shallow depth collapse, rats, and falling into acid incidents.
And honestly?
I didn't care that the boys probably had a "pleasant" stroll through the dungeon while we were basically auditioning for "Survivor: The Exploding Mine Edition."
Not their fault.
Technically.
But come on.
I was furious anyway.
We gathered, panting, limbs sticky with grime, rodent blood, and some unidentifiable liquid.
Baroque had whipped up some food, and for the first time in this miserable dungeon, we were able to sit without immediately fearing a trap, or collapse.
Luna patched us up so well we looked like we hadn't been through a mine apocalypse at all.
Armor tattered, clothing ruined, hair sticking in places it shouldn't, but healed.
Kind of ridiculous.
