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Yatagarasu opens his pack and brings out pieces of kit needed. He even begins opening and checking for supplies in your small pack to bring together everything to treat the cat.
<span class="mu-g">"Beira, to my aid come. Spare some small mote of ice, fresh and pure, for us."</span>
It seems so long ago when you first summoned small ice chunks that were only good enough to get fresh water. It wasn't an impressive power, but clearly in the eyes of the three kidnapped mortals, it's a miracle. They watch particles of ice dust gather in a wooden bowl set out by the Baphomet until solid chunks of translucent ice form. When enough has gathered, you simply wave your hand over the small pile of ice, and it melts into water.
Yatagarasu carefully cuts off the bandages covering the wounds of the cat with a knife. The cloth was once a white shirt, now stained with dried blood and pus. You gently attempt to clean the wounds.
"Ah, that damned fraud is running quite the swindle."
The cat hoarsely laughs as a burst of words leaves her lips.
"Stay quiet, Ki-chan, you're very badly hurt."
"Hmph, tis but a flesh wound. <span class="mu-i">Owie</span>. What's important is the secret dream of the kitty cat pretender."
The wounds are no mere flesh wound. It is definitely going to kill your cat unless you can get her back to Camelot and under the care of the Doctor.
Unless...
You give a side glance to the humans gathered around Yatagarasu. The Guide is passing around a wineskin of water and bread for the starving mortals. You also spy the Bodyguard sliding a bar across the front door while keeping an eye on the loopy Dowser.
"What secret is that?"
"That half of the cat is not actually here. Cowardly feline is out somewhere outside this domain. Safe and sound... Eating fine tuna and lounging about in the sun, no doubt."
That makes no sense to you. Half of a cat? There is clearly a very deadly monster in this realm; you saw a fake Cath Palug fighting two Knights of the Round Table. If that's half the cat, where is the other half?
"So even if we kill the damn thing in this realm, there's still part of it alive elsewhere and start shit all over again? That is some amazing bullshit."
You cleaned some of the wounds and started wrapping them, but the severity of the situation remains. Lady Kizaemon will undoubtedly die without healing.
Either you get out here as fast as possible and back to Camelot or... You harvest some Mana. You take a glance at the three mortals within easy reach as they chew bread and drink from the wineskins with gusto.
What you're about to ask of these scared and exhausted people is one hell of a request.
Can I take a sickle with a magical blade to cut you open and take some of your Mana?
You don't want to use force but it's always an option. Your mind is racing to set up the situation to allow such a conversation to begin. Luckily, you've always been really quick in reading people and sizing them up, taking notice of the smallest of clues.
