Chapter Text
Pain was a familiar to Kwei.
He's recalled pain through the stories scrawled and written across his body in scars. Three-clawed slashes from dangerous creatures. Broken skin healed over from traps set by Yautja of other clans, usually bad bloods. Scars from prey that escaped him. Scars from those that lined the walls of his ship's trophy room. He could recall each prickle and red-hot scalding stab of pain he's felt from a single glance. Kwei has felt so much before.
But nothing like this.
The dull, bottomless, helplessly growing ache in his chest that came with holding his own blade against his brother's throat. The same blade that sliced cleanly through flesh and set blood free from the confines of skin and muscle.
His fondness for Dek had done this to him. Had it been any other Yautja ordered to do this, they would've sliced Dek's head off in a heartbeat.
Watching the panicked, almost pleading, disbelieving gaze etched onto Dek's petrified features only deepened the sinkhole that opened in his stomach. His brother's mandibles had flared out in snarls and loud growling shrieks… but Kwei knew better. His growls weren't a warning to Kwei. They were cries for mercy— a concept shown by next to no Yautja. Worthy prey was hunted. Yautja were predators to all.
And above all else, weakness was not tolerated among their kind.
Fragility was not accepted. The frail and feeble were cast aside.
Yet Kwei could not stand the thought of doing the same to his very own brother. Dek, who stuck his neck out for him, even when they were stupid children. His brother, who lost a fang saving him from a deadly children's toy. The one who stood beside him longer than their father had ever been around.
Kwei disobeyed his father. He raised his own blade against him and sent Dek away. Far away— to Genna, where he could hunt and bring back his trophy. He would honor the family. Him. Kwei.
"Bring it back home," Kwei had said, clutching his severed arm to his chest before saving his brother from Njohrr. His memory would be honored by Dek's Kalisk trophy.
Now he was here. Fighting off the call of dhi'ki-de just long enough for him to watch his ship disappear into the sky. It was an honor in itself, wasn't it? He felt that it was. Dek would be safe inside of his ship. The cruel, harsh lands of Genna would test his brother, but that little runt was nothing if not resilient. A good fighter, a good hunter…. a good Yautja. Dek would be a good Yautja. Maybe Genna would whip the stubborn, ignorant arrogance out of him, and whip some common sense in.
An airy chuckle slipped from his mouth. Blood followed shortly after, speckling the insides of his mandibles with green, glowing blood. This pain didn't matter at all. Not when Dek was out of Njohrr's grasp.
Kwei could die like this… really, he could.
He was content knowing he protected his brother.
He was at peace.
The Yautja laid out on the padded medical table is… big, to say the least. But your ship told you that he was rather average for a Yautja. It made you wonder if he was an Elite yet or just a blooded hunter. Unless you could see his trophies, then you'll refrain from putting too many labels on him.
…Armor makes you think of Elite. Just not quite Elder status since he's clearly got some youth to him. That, and the lack of accessories you've seen elders adorned with.
But blooded also makes sense— you're getting off track!
You tentatively glanced at his severed arm. Technically, you could reattach it. What irked you was the damage. It was badly burned. So you were going to do the easier thing and give him a new one. If you kept the lopped off limb in some Weyland Yutani Corporation Regenerative Juices ™, they might make a dent in the damaged flesh.
You hoped it did. You didn't want to be on the receiving end of a Yautja's wrath.
All of his armor was set aside in preparation for your little operation. What he was left in were some plain fabric clothes. Simple enough to protect him from the elements, and practical for his armor.
Plasma cannon! Cool. These were one of the weapons you never got the chance to see up close without the fear of three dots locking onto your form. The metal was smooth to the touch and had an appropriate weight to it.
Your eyes flitted back to the Yautja as he shifted. You held your breath for a moment— had the anesthesia seriously worn off already?
Fortunately, it hadn't, and he settled rather quickly, his head gently lulling to the other side. His dreadlocks fell away to expose the rest of his neckline, where lighter lines alerted you of scars long healed over. The 'hair' on his head interested you more than the scars. They were considerably thinner compared to the thick, hefty ones you've seen in your few encounters with Yautja warriors. Some had them, some didn't. They were just as varied as humans were, in all honesty.
His shoulder guards and arm gauntlets were placed beside it. As were his weapons. In reach, if he suddenly decided to bypass a bunch of drugs meant to keep him unconscious and numb and beat your ass. No point in locking his stuff up— you'd love to keep your head on your shoulders instead of pissing him off.
With all of his things taken care of, you did one final sweep to check his injuries. Most of them healed rapidly thanks to your ship's immaculate medical abilities. You'd be absolutely screwed without them. As you ran your hands carefully over the healed wounds, you took note of how hot he ran. You weren't worried that he was running a fever— more so curious as to why his body radiated such heat. To add onto your many satisfied curiosities, you found that his skin was an odd mixture of roughly textured and smooth skin. Almost like an alligator's hide with a lot more give. The color, a reddish-brown, was deep, with lighter hues around the center of his face.
And his face… he had a strong set of mandibles on him. It felt strange, viewing a Yautja so closely. They weren't a species known for being friendly and outspoken. No, they… they were private. Secluded, only venturing the vast universe for hunts. You heard they reserved their faces for family and, in rare cases, worthy opponents. His fangs were big. A quick comparison told you that they were larger than your pointer fingers.
The Yautja took a particularly deep breath, his exhale lightly shaking his mandibles in his medically induced slumber.
"Excuse me for just a second," you murmured under your breath, removing the last bit of armor he had. It was a simple neck piece that slipped beneath the rest of his shirt, the former of which you promptly whisked away. "I've got to make sure nothing pokes you while you shift around."
His muscles were firm. He could crack your head like an egg with his remaining arm if he wanted.
Then again, couldn't all Yautja do that to you?
Ah, right, you had a job to do. Weyland should've killed you by now for your thoughts. They always had a mind of your own and ran on for far too long.
You gently moved his dreadlocks out of the way so they didn't catch on the metal tools you had set out. But with how heavily sedated he was, and how much blood he lost, you weren't too worried about him waking up anytime soon. Whatever cut his arm off ended up cauterizing some of the marred flesh. It prevented him from bleeding out right away.
A soft sigh fell past your lips, your gaze sweeping over his form.
"Who did you piss off, big guy…?"
You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, getting straight to work on attaching his new arm. Yautja weapons were no joke. They used some sort of laser technology for a lot of their shit. This clean slice was clearly done by a blade.
It took you hours to connect this refined prototype of yours. The ship's advanced medical systems found the nerves and muscles you could work with. The cauterized wounds had to be reopened for the new cybernetic augmentation. Flexible, durable, and strong. Weyland Yutani lost a good synth technician. Or an insane one. You liked brushes with death a little too much for your own good.
The time it took was worth it. It made you feel better about yourself that you relied mostly on your own handiwork instead of letting the robotic little pinchers take over and do your work for you. You weren't going to be like those assholes at Weyland who could repair busted synths in a matter of seconds. You were human. You made things more complicated for yourself because you could.
Besides, when are you going to get the chance to simply observe a Yautja like this again?
Kwei doesn't wake up like he thought he would.
Last he checked, he was crumpled up and discarded in his desert biome of a home, trying to ignore the call of dhi'ki-de
So, what in Paya's name was he doing on a medical bed?
It was like bags of lead were set all over his body to keep him from moving. Even blinking took more effort than it normally would've. Kwei's mandibles spread out gently, almost like he were stretching them, before settling flat against his mouth. He was able to glance around once his eyes fully adjusted to the dim lighting of the medical room.
It was unlike his own ship. Cooler tones and sleeker designs, although clearly the interior has seen better days.
Kwei's chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. With each second that passed, he felt the weight easing from his abdomen. Whatever made him so numb and limp was swiftly leaving his system.
His yellow eyes landed on a figure's back. Small, too small to be a Yautja. Smooth skin, a body not fit for constant fighting. It was a human. Kwei knew one when he saw one. They were… annoyingly persistent. In the few trips he's made to earth, Kwei had claimed a few skulls for his own trophy wall. They were good prey and good warriors. He's never been disappointed during his fights.
Most traveling humans had translators in their ships, didn't they? The smart ones, if he remembered correctly.
"Ooman," Kwei slowly spoke, his clicks and murmurs taking on a slightly raspy edge. He must've swallowed half of Yautja Prime's deserts from how scratchy his throat was. "Release me."
You glanced over your shoulder at the sound of his voice. It was deep, not that you expected anything less.
"Huh. You woke up quick…" You swiveled around in your chair, arms folded across your chest. "You're not restrained. I'm not trying to experiment on you or anything like that… just wanted to make sure you didn't die when I found you. You alright?"
He failed to answer. Kwei glanced down at his body. True to your word, he wasn't restrained. He also wasn't without an arm anymore, which stunned him. Here he was thinking that he was experiencing the fabled "phantom pain" he's heard from Elders and those who lost limbs during hunts.
He sat up. Quickly— far too quickly.
"Woah, hold on! Not that fast, come on!"
You scrambled out of your chair to reach him, brushing aside the very real danger of any Yautja being approached so rapidly would've folded their assumed aggressor in half like a lawn chair. You might as well be looking death right in the eye while you're doing this.
The only thing that comforted you was that he was still recovering from the affects of your anesthesia. Which means he's going to fall over if he gets up too fast!! Fuck!!
Your hand shot out to steady him, palm pressing against his chest so he didn't fling himself off of the damn table. You didn't exactly have the time to fear the snapping of his mandibles and enraged glower while you prevented him from smashing his face into the other side of the table. Why were Yautja so hard to calm down?!
A deep growl rumbled from him in response to your touch. The message was loud and clear: "Hands Off", which you weren't stupid enough to ignore. You removed your hand from him, your concerned gaze morphing into an annoyed glare. If he kept moving around so carelessly he was bound to damage the goods.
"Be careful," you warned. "I don't want you ripping that thing out after I spent so long putting it on you. I connected it to a lot of your nerves, too."
Once more, he sat himself up, eyes locked onto the new metal arm he had. He saw where flesh met metal, where the material mimicked the appearance of his remaining hand.
Fearlessly, and almost foolishly, you rolled closer on your swivel chair, resting your arms on the busted back where the headrest was supposed to be. You were too focused on his new prosthetic to care. "Try closing your hand. It should work like a normal arm."
Five digits closed into a fist. The sight alone made your heart soar. You did wonderfully.
I'm a genius. And I didn't even need to use the shit they power their synths with. All I needed to use was his blood. You grinned to yourself, leaning closer to get a better look at the movements of his hand and arm. He tested it out and began bending the prosthetic at the elbow. Each digit and knuckle was also stretched and clenched. It barely made any noise at all, which you prided yourself on above all else. It wasn't loud or annoying!
Anyhow, you were glad he was at least paying attention to your hard work. You had already thought about the fact that his weapons would slip from his grasp if the arm was fully metal, so there was added padding around the hand and where his wrist gauntlet was supposed to go. No use in giving him a new arm if it pissed him off.
You couldn't keep your prideful comment to yourself. "Good, isn't it?"
His eyes immediately shot to you when you decided to open your mouth again. What, he didn't like the way you spoke Yautja?
You rested your chin on crossed arms as you regarded him fully. He was strangely good-looking. Pah, you're looking into things too much. You've basically stared at him for the past few hours. Of course you've gotten used to his features.
"Why am I here?"
"Hmph. I found you bleeding out when I was exploring."
He squinted at you, as if silently asking why you were doing that in the first place. With a soft sigh, you elaborated further.
"Yautja Prime has useful plants when it comes to making medicinal ointments. I figured I'd be able to find something more resilient if I checked on the drier regions of this place. I guess I did find something tough…" You shook the thought out of your head before you asked something you could end up regretting. "What's your name, anyway?"
He had a very serious look now that he was awake. Then again, when weren't Yautja serious? He was the picture of a seasoned hunter. Minus the part about being in pieces when you found him. His hardened features, furrowed, hairless brows, and a scowl. That's a hunter right there. A killer.
So how come the heat in his eyes lacked the lethal hostility Yautja commonly held within them? The kind you were used to seeing wasn't particularly present within him. Perhaps he had more important matters on his mind.
Seeing that he wasn't in the mood to go first, you introduced yourself casually after returning to your seat. He processed it, head cocking to the side subtly, mandibles lifting.
You gestured to him. "There, you've got my name. I'd like to know yours. It's the least you could do after I patched you up."
"Kwei," he finally said, posture still stiff and rigid as a board. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if a wrench would break if you whacked him over the head with it.
Uncomfortable? You internally mused, keeping your eyes on him and your thoughts to yourself. "Nice to meet you, Kwei. You're good at recovering."
Your ship, your rules. You're not going to peel your eyes off of him like a fool. You aren't that stupid. Worst case scenario— you inject him with some more sedatives and toss him back where you found him.
Still… I can't blame him. He probably thought he was as good as dead when he got it ripped off of him.
Now he was so full of… life. Square shoulders, broad frame, and a power that was left unspoken. The power imbalance was apparent here. You gave him what he was missing only hours ago. An upper hand. Any human who had a proper sense of self-preservation would've double-tapped him or ran the other way. You liked doing weird things for humans and other humanoids alike. What use was your skill if you didn't spread your knowledge and technology?
"Why did you save me?" he asked, having had his fill of your blatant staring.
Crossing one leg over the other, you told him why you did what you did. You'd have the same answers if you were in his position. "I wanted to. It's not very fun seeing others bleed out on the floor alone."
He then lifted his prosthetic arm, simply uttering a "Why?" through strong mandibles.
"Because I wanted to. I knew I could save you. By the way, if you still want your actual arm, I've got it sitting in some fluids that will hopefully heal some of the damages."
You pushed yourself across the room while in your swiveling chair. It's the most dangerous thing you've actually got on your ship since you never strap it down, meaning whoever sits in it during takeoff is just asking to die.
Kwei watched as you pulled a cloth away from a covered cylinder. Beneath it, through thick glass, was his severed arm, suspended in a thick blue liquid.
You left it uncovered and returned to the side of the medical bed. "Careful standing up. I might have to get you something sweet. Blood loss and all."
He stood up, which you raised an eyebrow at, and started to put his armor back on. Shoulder guards, wrist gauntlet, a sling of explosives, the collapsible long sword— the whole shebang. You'd think he's getting ready to kill someone. Whoever wronged him, presumably.
Watching him suit up was a good reward for all your hard work. He was quick with it, too. So you took it all in. The movements of a Yautja suiting back up. Each movement had purpose. Every strap that was tightened— all the mechanisms locking into place and armor seemingly melding against one another as he got himself all fitted out.
Eventually, Kwei noticed one of his items was missing. He slowly turned to you, and good lord, were his eyes very telling.
You stared right back at him to try and figure out what was missing.
Neck armor. You set it aside since it was literally soaked with that bio-luminescent green blood of his. You reached over to the nearby counter you set it on and tossed it over. "Here. That's the only one I had to move away. Happy?"
He said nothing the entire time he assessed all of his belongings. Checking if you took anything for yourself, if you hid a weapon of his to use against him, all of that petty nonsense. If he had some common sense about humans, he'd know that a lot of them didn't have the balls to mess with Yautja.
There wasn't a need for him to say "don't touch my things" again. That one look from him was your only warning.
Still, you explained yourself. You'd talk for the both of you. You got back to your feet, grabbing a nearby bowl of snacks to eat from while you watched him do his thing. Yautja were so interesting. You'd observe him like a performer on the side of the street at this point. "I had to move it because it'd mess with my scanners. Don't get your panties in a twist. And here, have this for being a good patient."
You stuck a dried apricot into his mouth without much warning, not caring if he swallowed or spat it out. He flinched immediately and snarled at you. You cackled and ripped your hand away before he could grab it and break it.
"Eat it!" You encouraged, popping the dried stone fruit into your mouth to show him it was safe. "We use it to help those who donate their blood. It's the least sweet fruit I've got on my ship right now. Drink some water, too."
You offered him his water skin back. He took it, none too kindly, but the tension in his shoulders you saw before had lessened.
After he drank, he refocused on you. Was he sizing you up? The hell are you going to do to him? Pull on one of his dreadlocks? Slap him?
Kwei let out a sound suspiciously similar to a huff and stalked away, turning on his heel to lean back against the counter you kept your supplies at. He crossed his arms—
Only to let out a hiss of pain. His new prosthetic arm had smacked against the side of the cabinet when he folded his arms over his chest. You approached him again, already grabbing at the metal to see what was wrong with it. Kwei didn't flinch away from your touch a second time. No, he watched. Like you did with him, ignoring his glares for you to keep your eyes elsewhere. Kwei observed it all with those light, opaque yellow eyes of his.
Your fluid movements as you inspected the metal arm interested him. So you did this as a job. You were familiar with it, weren't you?
A pyode amedha who worked with things that made others stronger.
A tender fleshed, pudgy, weak and slippery soft-bellied human was helping him. Why?
You were tiny. Smaller than Dek, even.
The reminder momentarily stunned Kwei, allowing you the ample opportunity to fidget with the arm. How could he let it slip from his mind for so long?
You busied yourself with correcting the sensitivity and rambling to Kwei, the one Yautja you were sort of set on pack-bonding wit. This guy was cool.
"Sorry, sometimes it can get kinda sensitive. I'll fix it."
Dek. He needed to return to where his ship used to be. He had to wait for Dek.
"Lift your damn arm. You weigh, like, a ton."
Kwei lifted his arm only to access his gauntlet. A few taps brought up a hologram of his ship's location. Genna. Destination reached. A mock-up of the planet showed a red dot pulsating on one of its continents, showing him that Dek landed on solid ground instead of the sea. Good. That was good.
"Thanks. Can you shift to the side a bit? I need to—"
"I need to return to Yautja Prime. Now."
You paused at his interruption, staring him down for a solid five seconds. "We never left. You can take a look— we're in a cave. Not too far from where I found you, but I know Yautja like killing things that can fight back."
He strode past you, brushing your hand off of his arm, walking around like he owned the ship. "I must go to where I keep my ship. My brother will return there and he isn't aware I survived."
You tagged right along. Trailing behind a Yautja was fun! You couldn't see past this behemoth's hulking form. Your eyes followed each sway of his fleshy dreadlocks as they brushed up against his back.
"Where's your brother? Is he on his blooding ritual?"
He glanced over his shoulder, the slightest twinge of surprise flashing through his features. "You know of it?"
"Ehh… my company sort of required we know about any humanoid species. Anyway, where'd he go? What's his name?"
Kwei took another turn. "You ask too many questions."
"I saved your life."
"I did not ask you too."
I should break his legs. You let out a loud groan. "Come on, I don't even want a repayment. I'm curious."
A guttural rumbling followed your groan. "His name is Dek. I sent him to Genna."
He spotted the cockpit, which he zeroed in on right away. His steps just barely shook the ground, thudding dully through the narrow hallways of your ship. Kwei was comically large compared to your normal-sized halls.
His words registered a second later. You rushed to his side when he planted his ass firmly into the captain's chair. "Wait, what? Did you just say Genna? You sent him to Genna?"
Is he making sure Genna kills him first?!
Kwei's hairless brows furrowed, one arched up in question at your surprise. "Yes. The Death Planet."
"I, I know what Genna is. I think everyone who knows about space knows about Genna."
Genna reminded you of a company you used to work at.
Your eyes flitted to the barely covered up logo on your stolen ship. Weyland liked plastering their corporation everywhere. It was almost on every wall in the ship, which definitely wasn't yours. It was a miracle and a half that you snatched it up from under the company's noses, but it was only because it was an older model they planned to decommission. You ran away from those fools for a reason.
"He definitely shouldn't be there. That's where my old company is," you quickly said, already sliding over to the nearby screen to look up the planet's current coordinates. Kwei, apparently good as new, followed, easily dwarfing your body in order to see what you were doing. "I previously worked for Weyland Yutani. They use alien creatures for weapons and they've dug their claws into that planet for the past two years."
He grunted, glaring at the pitiful controls of the cockpit's monitors and navigation. What a shitty ship. "He's doing his hunt. He won't care about humans. Many of you are pyode."
"I'm not soft," You lied straight to his face.
His shoulders subtly shook with a huff-like laughter. "We call you soft meat for a reason."
Alright, asshole. It was your turn for your brows to raise. "Alright, you got me. What's he hunting?"
"Kalisk," he clicked back.
Eugh.
This time around, you failed at hiding your grimace. Kalisks. Those things were tough creatures and deadly. Last you heard, that's what Weyland Yutani wanted from Genna. A Kalisk specimen to study because of their rumored regenerative powers.
You brought your hand up to your face, rubbing at your temples. Getting there would be a headache. "If you want to go to Genna to see him, then—"
"No," Kwei swiftly cut you off, leaning over you.
When the hell did he stand up? You thought, tilting your head back to look up at him. Oh my god he's fucking huge from here.
"He has to hunt. He needs to return here."
You stared up at him incredulously. He can't seriously be pulling this tactic. An intimidation show? Really? After you fixed his damn arm and kept him from bleeding out? You should pelt him with rocks for his audacity.
Your fingers hovered over the coordinates the ship automatically supplied to you. You slowly brought your hand back down after hearing his wishes. From what you knew about Yautja, they honored the hunt. Like no other. If he doesn't think his brother needs the help, then you definitely shouldn't stick yourself into their business. You've been testing fate and tempting death since you dragged Kwei in here.
Tongue darting over your lips, you relented, switching the screen back to the diagnostics and scans your equipment retrieved from Kwei. If Dek was coming back home with a trophy, it'd be a nice surprise (and relief) for him to see his brother waiting for him.
"…Alright, fine. I won't interrupt on his hunt… but I'm going to monitor what Weyland is doing."
His hunt is one thing. You don't know him yourself, but if Weyland gets involved with Dek to try and profit off Yautja weaponry, that's when you're stepping in. You know humans aren't supposed to have their technology. there's too many of your kind, and a bunch of synths, who would only use it to "better humanity", when in reality, they'd probably start a war using Yautja-made weapons.
"I'll head there if I find out that Weyland is trying to utilize your kind's tech, but I won't stop Dek from doing anything. Is that a deal?"
"…Acceptable," the Yautja decided, mandibles pressing back up against his mouth. He could still taste the subtle tartness that lingered from that fruit you fed him. He's never had anything so sweet before. And he's never had a human force-feed him. "I will stop you from reaching my brother if the need arises."
"If we even go there."
"I would decide. Dek went with my ship. Yours is inferior to Yautja-made designs."
"It's not my creation. I stole it."
He crossed his arms. His flesh hand settled upon the new, cold metal of his new arm. It appeared to weird Kwei out for a split second, as he raised his fingers from the chill. You hadn't gotten the chance to put the final, protective layer over the prosthetic, which would've granted the arm a slightly more realistic feel. You'd let Kwei decide if he wanted the synthetic feel or not.
He seemed to be focused on other things aside from your handiwork. Much to your disappointment. Kwei had leaned over to mess with your navigation.
"You don't exactly have a ship to go there."
"I have yours," Kwei shot back with a tone of finality. Fine, he did have a ship. "I will remain here until my brother returns with the Kalisk."
You smacked his hand away when he attempted to punch in some coordinates. "Cut that out. I've hidden the ship and I don't need you messing with where we are right after you woke up."
He decided to pull that intimidation shit again and stood right up from the captain's chair.
"I know my home planet."
…Maybe the Yautja figured out how to show off to each other a little too well. The intimidation thing was starting to work. The fact that he could pick you up and throw you across the ship also had your resolver wavering.
This is why I can't keep doing kind things. You sourly sat down in the seat beside the captain's chair. Kwei settled back down, eyes roving over the shiny, brand-new prosthetic you so graciously gifted him.
"Ooman."
You let your head fall back against your chair. "I've got a name."
"Pyode."
You glared. "What?"
"You craft limbs… can you craft weapons?"
Your gaze softened at his question. You nodded, sitting up straighter. It wasn't everyday that people asked about what you did for a living. "Yeah. Synths, limbs, and weapons. Picked up on a bit when I had an actual job. Why?"
He took out his long sword, giving a simple flick of his wrist to unsheathe it fully from its retracted state. The sword, almost fully black, sizzled with red-hot energy on the sharp edge of the blade. Kwei held it out to you expectantly.
"My sword was damaged in my last fight. Fix it."
"Prove your worth," is what he's saying.
You grasped the handle, finding it uncomfortable and heavy to hold. Yeah, you weren't made for combat. You were made to rot in a room and make cool cybernetic shit.
"…I thought Yautja weren't supposed to give others their technology."
Kwei turned to face you. His eyes bore into your own for what felt like an eternity. Another smartass comment died on your tongue, and you wondered if his brother dealt with this. The unyielding stare of an older, experienced, firm blooded hunter.
"Fix it," he repeated.
You held his gaze before lowering it, sighing at your own show of submission. He was too good at staring someone down. This really wasn't the whole "my ship my rules" thing you had going on anymore.
Kwei's chest appeared to puff out slightly.
Yours deflated. "…I'll do my best."