[ It takes but a moment for Sion to realize that the other man's anxiety has heightened far beyond that of simple bewilderment and surprise—appropriately, the King tempers himself, voice gentling and carrying with it a warmth quite unlike the playful lilt he'd used to make introductions. The reason why matters so very little to him, in the end—what is important is what he glimpses before him in the here and now: a comrade frenzied to the point of clawing at their skin, eyes gone glassy with moisture threatening to fall. ]
I need for you to listen to my voice. Be calm, be still, and all will be well.
[ For there is, in fact, someone there to help. And aid arrives a moment later in the form of a soothing spell, its incantation spoken in a language old and long forgotten, though its soft intonations are calming, painting everything in a rose-hued light. What's more, Sion himself moves to take action shortly thereafter, reaching for Kija with no small measure of care.
Deftly, he makes to unbutton the man's uniform, caring little for propriety and everything for Kija's peace of mind. ]
You are all right. Focus upon steadying your breath, and think on something else.
[ As he swats away the lizard—who knew the Hall of Glory had been home to such creatures?—and the spiders which skitter, yet, despite at else. ]
no subject
[ It takes but a moment for Sion to realize that the other man's anxiety has heightened far beyond that of simple bewilderment and surprise—appropriately, the King tempers himself, voice gentling and carrying with it a warmth quite unlike the playful lilt he'd used to make introductions. The reason why matters so very little to him, in the end—what is important is what he glimpses before him in the here and now: a comrade frenzied to the point of clawing at their skin, eyes gone glassy with moisture threatening to fall. ]
I need for you to listen to my voice. Be calm, be still, and all will be well.
[ For there is, in fact, someone there to help. And aid arrives a moment later in the form of a soothing spell, its incantation spoken in a language old and long forgotten, though its soft intonations are calming, painting everything in a rose-hued light. What's more, Sion himself moves to take action shortly thereafter, reaching for Kija with no small measure of care.
Deftly, he makes to unbutton the man's uniform, caring little for propriety and everything for Kija's peace of mind. ]
You are all right. Focus upon steadying your breath, and think on something else.
[ As he swats away the lizard—who knew the Hall of Glory had been home to such creatures?—and the spiders which skitter, yet, despite at else. ]