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[openhanded]

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[openhanded]

[Sorey doesn't hesitate to drink again. This time it's slower, and he doesn't waste a drop. When he finally lowers the mug, he looks just as tired as he feels. He's tried to be strong for Mikleo, tried to pretend he's okay, but he isn't. And he knows Mikleo is trying for him, which just makes Sorey feel worse.]

I... I think I'm good now. [He offers the mug back to Mikleo.] Make sure to wash this out before you use it again.

[He doesn't leave any room for argument, because he's curling up against the water seraph and closing his eyes. It occurs to Sorey that he hasn't slept in ages, but if he lays here long enough with his friend's fingers in his hair, he just might.]

Is it okay if I rest for a bit? Just a little bit...

[rulayracing]

[Mikleo wraps the mug in a cloth before returning it to his bag, making a soft noise of agreement. He keeps holding Sorey close to him, running his fingers through his hair and shifting so that they're both more comfortable.]

Take as long as you need, Sorey.

[He'll pray to the Five Lords that his dreams are pleasant while he rests. The water seraph, meanwhile, will remain vigilant, just like old times.]

[openhanded]

[He lets out a noise of agreement that's more like a sigh. With every passing moment, he seems to melt against the seraph a little more. There's so much they should talk about but words seem insurmountable. He should get up and do another round of healing, he should be helping with the patrol, he should... he should...

But Mikleo's presence is steady and familiar in a forest full of terrors and darkness and secrets, and it isn't more than a minute later that he goes limp and begins to breathe shallowly.]