[ There's a small smattering of pink across his cheeks when she kisses his knuckles — so often it's him doing it to her that it never crossed his mind she'd reicprocate. He likes it. ]

Then we walk. [ A pause. ]

Or ride. Ambrosia can likely make the trip, but we'll need to get you a dedicated chocobo. The less of us that go, the better. We don't want them thinking we're there to attack. And then, when we've gained their trust, we can figure out a way for all of us to come back, if they want. If you want.

[ To come back, that is. This is her homeland they're speaking of, and if she wants to stay, then they'll stay, no questions asked. ]

It will take us a few days once we're back at the Hideaway to prepare, but once that's ready, we can go.

[ Near fatal wounds? What near fatal wounds? Clive would gladly walk into hell with every bone broken in his body if it meant giving Jill the world, and he doesn't want to sit around and wait for himself to get better to go and do that. This is as important to him as it is to her, and he will treat it with the urgency it deserves, damn it. ]