It's going to be a bad one...

Kiril, feeling the impending sandstorm, rushes back to the monastery. Thankfully, he was already redressed, when the sky turned black in the early morning sky.

And his first thought? Spring! Protect Spring.

The alarm is already being raised, and the place is in a turmoil of activity as people start to secure items before moving into the main temple area to wait out the blow. As he moves through the people, rushing here and there in frantic haste, he narrowly avoids being run into by Dashki. Not trusting him before, but now knowing that he has also duped Spring, he quickly grabs him by an arm. Squeezing, hard, very hard, he hisses at him, "Never go near her again!"

"Who? Dashki replies, trying to shake off Kiril's grip unsuccessfully.

Eyeing the man with utter disdain, and clearly evident loathing, he says, "You think your clever, and you might be, somewhat. But your not as smart  as you believe if you think I will not take your head if you approach her again. Only because our employer still has a use for you has let me allow you the privilege of still drawing breath". As he says this, his hand continues to c;amp down, in a crushing grip.

Then, with a shove Kiril releases his grip, and continues to the courtyard.

Upon entering the courtyard, he sees that she is away from where he had left her, and back to her own sleeping mat.

"This is going to be a bad one, we must hurry, It is coming on us with unnatural speed" he says loudly for all three of his companions to hear, but his eyes are on Spring as he does.

Moving to her, he helps her secure her belongings, before attending to his own. He is gratified to see her accompany him and assist with his bedding and pack.  He softly says to Spring as she helps him, "Good morning. I hope you slept well. And please know that your place is with me, if you desire it. I desire nothing more in this world than that!" Noticing the rosy hue of the blush that started when he mentioned her sleeping, or lack there of, he can't help but grin.

Connie and Penladan are done with their possessions by this time too.

Out of time for anything else to be said, the ever-mounting ferocity only too evident as the edge of the storm hits.

An errant gust brings a mouthful of sand into Kiril's mouth, and lungs, as the four of them join the rest of the encampment in the temple, slamming the doors shut and barring them.

o0o