“But what if someone sees the light?”
“Unlikely. It will be fine.”
“I know but, what if? I’m taking the only rifle!”
“You need not worry.”
“You say that but we both know that’s not true.”
“I can protect the bunker, I will keep our presence hidden.”
“I don’t care about the bunker.”
“I can protect myself.”
“But everytime you use your field-”
“It will be fine, you must go now. The storm is passing but the darkness falls.”
“Promise me you’ll stay low.”
“We do this every time.”
“Very well. I promise. As I always do. As I always will.”
“Okay...see you soon, Tzztch.”
“Farewell for now. Stay safe, M’ino.”

Xzkkh: Describe it.
Caspin: Heh! I don’t know if I can? I mean, we’re so different…
Xzkkh: Surely it will translate?
Caspin: Really? Do you know the smell of fresh rainfall on stones? The taste of ripe fruit?
Xzkkh: No.
Caspin: Describe something to me, then! I’m sure we can find a common ground in something?
Xzkkh: Smoke. It sours the air. It is a scent of danger, but it reminds me of the temple where I served.
Caspin: On Sarhesen?
Xzkkh: Yes. It it the same, but different. Shkkt’s scent means confrontation. The ship burning means danger. The temple fire means peace. One it sweet, the rest are acidic. Coarse in my lungs.
Caspin: Very interesting.