She hated that stupid armor sometimes. Wished he'd take the damn thing off once in a while. But it was a part of him and she'd be damned of she tried to change him or be accused of doing as much.
So she hugged him, cursing when she half stumbled over his leg, her arms around him and squeezing as best she could around the massive hunk of metal.
"Until you have to." She murmured. "You're going to go home, eventually, and you'll leave me then." It was not something she had thought about much until recently; until her feelings for Davrin really came to the forefront and the realization that she didn't actually want to die reared its ugly head. She didn't want to leave anyone here, as much as she didn't want to leave anyone at home. "So you can't abandon me before that."
What's he supposed to wear, exactly around here? Bedsheets? No one tailors for a nine foot tall guy wider than most doors.
He was not sure he can go home, the thought of what might happen with all his exposure to the sorcery here tearing through him, rupturing him like a broken Geller field.... He didn't want to think about it. And he was not going to, right now. "Until I have to." He meant that both ways. Until he had to leave. Until he had to risk what awaited him and his brothers.
Oops he might be squeezing a little too hard. He's not good at hugging.
Someone could probably figure it out, if he cared to ask.
Nina grunted but endured for a few seconds, not wanting to break his hold for both their sakes. It was only when her side started to ache that she patted his back. "Ease up, brother." She murmured. "You're going to snap me in half."
"Oh. Sorry." He released her, moving his hands to her shoulders, giving the ability to take a breath again. "We will get through this together." He hoped. "You can still punch me if it would make you feel better."
Nina inhaled deep. It was like hugging Caleb times ten — bear hugs from Gadriel could definitely kill someone. "Do you want me to punch you?" Maybe it would make him feel better.
Hey, that fist came awfully close to, uh. Just ouch.
She could have hit his other thigh--it's healed by now, just one more scar on the maze of scars on his skin. "Not your best, but all right." He's not going to let her go thinking she entirely won.
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So she hugged him, cursing when she half stumbled over his leg, her arms around him and squeezing as best she could around the massive hunk of metal.
"Until you have to." She murmured. "You're going to go home, eventually, and you'll leave me then." It was not something she had thought about much until recently; until her feelings for Davrin really came to the forefront and the realization that she didn't actually want to die reared its ugly head. She didn't want to leave anyone here, as much as she didn't want to leave anyone at home. "So you can't abandon me before that."
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He was not sure he can go home, the thought of what might happen with all his exposure to the sorcery here tearing through him, rupturing him like a broken Geller field.... He didn't want to think about it. And he was not going to, right now. "Until I have to." He meant that both ways. Until he had to leave. Until he had to risk what awaited him and his brothers.
Oops he might be squeezing a little too hard. He's not good at hugging.
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Nina grunted but endured for a few seconds, not wanting to break his hold for both their sakes. It was only when her side started to ache that she patted his back. "Ease up, brother." She murmured. "You're going to snap me in half."
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"Oh. Sorry." He released her, moving his hands to her shoulders, giving the ability to take a breath again. "We will get through this together." He hoped. "You can still punch me if it would make you feel better."
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Nina inhaled deep. It was like hugging Caleb times ten — bear hugs from Gadriel could definitely kill someone. "Do you want me to punch you?" Maybe it would make him feel better.
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"Not really. I just do not want you angry at me anymore." So, maybe a little friendly punch.
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"I'm not angry at you anymore." But fine. She pulled her fist back and punched him in the thigh — the one he didn't stab earlier. "Good?"
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She could have hit his other thigh--it's healed by now, just one more scar on the maze of scars on his skin. "Not your best, but all right." He's not going to let her go thinking she entirely won.
Though she did.
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"You know what? Nevermind, I'm still mad at you." She wasn't, but now she was going to pretend she was!