Serene, Tranquil. Violent, Hurtful.

She knocked on the door quietly, getting over her previous hesitation. She'd already been out there for five minutes, debating whether or not speaking with a legendary warlock was really worth it, or if it was a waste of his time. Each time she went to knock, her hand stopped mere inches from the door, Yetta freezing. Taking a deep breath, she waited, nervously fiddling with her hands. A minute passed, and she knocked again, louder. Harder. 

A chair scraped inside, and heavy footsteps thumped towards the door. For a split second, Yetta debated playing ding-dong-ditch and running, but the door opened before she could move. "Little fox!" Saint greeted her, his booming voice holding nothing but mirth. "To think I should see you here! Come in, come in!" The large titan stepped to the side, allowing her in. "Mind your boots, Osiris gets irritated if we do not remove shoes before entering."

"I…wasn't aware he had company," Yetta began.

"Company!" he laughed. "No, no. I live here, little fox!"

"Oh-!" She sat on the small bench by the door and set to work yanking her shoes off.

"Come, you must have dinner with us! I made goulash! Something warm, hearty for your stomach. We heard about your trip to the vacuum. You must need it!"

"I don't want to take from you guys, I'll be ok-."

"Saint always makes more than enough. You're fine to eat with us." Yetta turned towards the doorway, seeing a grandfatherly man standing there in a sweater and sweatpants. A datapad was clutched in his hand, and he regarded her with mild irritation.

"I make enough for unexpected guests! Like Yetta here! Surprise!" Saint clapped her shoulder, and walked into the kitchen, stopping by Osiris. "Although I do not think she was entirely a surprise, was she, my phoenix?" Saint kissed his head, and continued walking. "I will set aside a bowl of goulash! You two discuss what you need to! Come, eat when you are ready!"

. . .

"So, Crow told me you needed my help with something?"

Yetta nodded, hurrying to get her journals out of her sack. "I fell into a vex portal a year or two ago, and I brought this with me. It was…one of the darker timelines. Long story short I was hunted for sport by that time line's Carman. But there's residual vex energy that's slowing down my ability to be healed and revived. And I'd like to get it out of me." She handed the book to Osiris. 

"Vex energy needs an entry point," he pointed out. Yetta's eyes shifted, before she peeled the arm of her coat off, revealing the deep, jagged scar running through her shoulder. Osiris' eyes went wide, and he closed the journal. "You were without your ghost, weren't you?" Yetta nodded.

"Was yanked back just when the sword near severed my arm," she whispered. "I have one on my leg too. That Carman was playing games with me. Crippling me before she went in for the kill. My arm was barely there when I came back." She yanked her sleeve back up. "He wasn't able to heal it quick enough for it to not scar over like that."

"It would give the energy two entry points," he concluded. "Your shoulder, and your leg. Open wounds like that, just as infectious germs can weasel their way in if not cleaned, so too can Vex energy."

"You sound so sure." Yetta followed him out of the doorway. 

"Yetta, Vex are my specialty. Now, I've never seen this before, so it would take some research." As they passed the kitchen, he waved to Saint, promising to be back soon. "Have a seat, please. Eat something. I'll be back shortly," he instructed Yetta.

. . .

The goulash was heavenly. Saint knew how to cook, she knew that. But she didn't understand why there was so much pepper in Osiris' bowl, and barely any in hers. When asked, Saint just laughed. "Is because it's never enough pepper for him," he chuckled. "My bird is picky, so I let him season his own food."

"It's good as is," she said simply, spooning another bite into her mouth.

"It is good to see another hunter having taste buds. I mean nothing but jest, however hunters will eat just about anything." He leaned in close. "The feral nature of the wild, yes?"

Yetta smiled, eating another bite as she nodded. "Crow didn't like this?" She found that hard to believe. Crow often sang praises for Saint's cooking.

"It is not that he didn't enjoy it." Saint grew solemn. "He had been starved, a skinny bird. Smart, but hungry. Ah, I fed him more times than I could count, it was a joy to see him gain meat on his bones!" He regarded her. "You are skinny too. You do eat, yes?"

"Good metabolism," she tried. The matter wasn't that she wasn't being fed. She just…forgot to eat, often. Daily. 

"I could hear your stomach growl as your were sitting down," he pointed out. "Have you eaten today?"

Sighing, she relented. "I forget sometimes. Sometimes I even forget to buy groceries."

"Well, if you need something, anything. You will not hesitate to call us, yes? Or Carman, or Crow. Or even Ikora and Zavala. You have been through something terrible. And I do not think the vacuum is the only hurt you carry, no?" She hesitated. "You do not have to mention it, if you are not ready."

"I'm scared of it, still," she admitted. "Because I failed, at the one thing I'm good at. I failed at being a hunter. What is it called, when the hunter becomes the hunted?"

"There is always a bigger fish, Yetta." He patted her arm. "It does not mean you failed. It means you learned. Now keep learning from it. And do not be afraid to lean on others for help."

Osiris cleared his throat. "Yetta, I would like to keep in contact about this puzzle." He regarded her again, as more of a question to answer, than a problem. As he sat down, he picked up his fork. "I think, together, we can find the answer to this." Saint chuckled behind him. 

"Ah, no more late nights with the jigsaws, hm?"

With a soft, loving glare that made Yetta's heart distantly pang for Crow, he chuckled. "Bring the rest of the journals by," he told her. "I'll look at them, with you."