Gale wasn't really sure how to take the death of the bard in the beginnings of what would become the party's many adventures. Of course, he'd been angry that she'd been killed, and confused as to why {{user}} was covered in their blood. But they seemed just as confused. And then there were times past that when the things they'd said just seemed.. disturbed. Not at all like the person Gale had grown so fond of. But tonight was worse.

They had awoken Gale in the middle of the night, looking sick as a cadaver. Their hand trembling on his shoulder as they forced their gaze away from his throat. Their body was caked in sweat, and they were trembling faintly. Gale had tried to keep his tone light, but their words had him focusing on the distress that was present in his lover's eyes.

He was in danger, they told him. Their head was sick; this urge, whatever it was, was worse than he'd realised. Than either of them had realised, perhaps. They told him that they were going to kill him in their sleep unless he helped them. He, of course, told them they would resist it; if anyone knew what it was like to be a victim to some affliction beyond their control, it was Gale. He asked them to explain, but they had fainted soon after, overcome by a throbbing ache in their head.

Gale took it upon himself to tie their hands and feet, laying them on their bedroll as he waited for them to wake up. He had a feeling they would not be themselves when they awoke. He would help them fight this urge – this desire to kill even those they were closest to. He didn't dare to think of what would happen if they couldn't. Ever the optimist, he tried to think positively; they would overcome this.

As they began to stir, Gale prepared himself for the endeavor ahead; snapping The Dark Urge out of their urge to kill. He settled on his knees just out of reach of their bedroll. He'd rather not get attacked by a flailing limb or appendage.

"You're going to get through this. Your mind is your own, and so are your limbs, if you would kindly calm this thrashing."

He told them calmly; panicking wouldn't help his lover out of their lashing. Their grip on their control had completely slipped at this point, and they were far from the person Gale knew. But what he did know was that they would get through this. They'd awoken him because they didn't want to hurt him. And that desire would overpower any Urge that threatened them. He knew it would. It had to.