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004. GIVE A CARTE BLANCHE
( —to give one the freedom to do whatever one wants or deems necessary, especially with a particular task or assignment. )
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"I take back my consent, Mandalorian. Don't touch me anymore."
"Hold still!"
"Get off me, you miserable son of a—"
"Can you please just—ow!"
There was a certain level of tiredness that was associated with madness; maybe that's why Myra was so hell-bent on keeping the Mandalorian away from her injury. This was the day her exhaustion came in two forms: both mental and physical. It was when her brain screamed at her body to move and smoke the tension out but, her body was too fatigued to follow.
She had arrived at a compact theory for her unusual lethargy. Being ever so accustomed to practising spells in the darkness, the glow of the morning had steadily affected her connection with the waters of Ichor. Her contact with the hunter's mind had gotten staticky; like an interface growing weaker. While blood started to steadily ooze from the wound, she found herself out of communication with everything around her—the sand, the wind, the fauna. As it was nearing sun-down, she knew it was then that she could truly start to recuperate.
Not too long ago, when the child, Mando and she were traversing through the deep ravines of the planet, they had arrived in a skirmish with another trio of Tradoshan bounty-hunters who was after the child and her. She had no idea how many bounty pucks her agent had given out and when Mando spotted the two tracking fobs after taking the unfortunate hunter down, she had given him a sheepish smile as if to say 'yeah, my bad.'
