It was a bit of a struggle, which Kavinsky sort of expected. Proko had been getting more scarce in the forest, like it was Kavinsky's fault that he was stuck there. It wasn't. If he had it his way, he'd be out in Darrow like anyone else. If he'd had it his way, Kavinsky would have put him up, in the house or the studio. But he couldn't have it his way, and he knew Proko resented him, even if Kavinsky couldn't do anything about it.

Kavinsky grabbed one of the pill bottles and opened it one handed. He shook out two of the pills and then shoved his hand over Proko's mouth and nose so he would be forced to at least have them in his mouth if he wanted Kavinsky's hand off so he could breathe again.

Right against his ear, Kavinsky murmured a soft shushing breath. "Relax, Illy. Everything's chill."