"Skellig?" she asks, concerned, afraid, her heart speeding up.

Taweret makes a soothing noise. "The aftereffects of yesterday, nothing dreadful." She decides that Skellig needs beer, starts pouring him some more.

Kreyu's blood is still in the bucket, still un-clotted, as it was when he retched it up. Some lingering effect of what he did, perhaps, since it's certainly not natural!

Kreyu holds him close, blocks the sun from his eyes.