Severance laid to sculpted glass was seen, skewered about the other’s feet and remnants within her palms. An accident, he surmised, aureate curiosity flickered to the one upon the floor. “Hey there—…You okay? Like uh—not cut or anything?" An ethereal hand to aid any possible injuries, though his method of bandaging a wound were otherworldly compared to ordinary medical tendencies. In any case, the alchemist bent his own frame to the floor, already reaching for the remaining pieces to help the other.
“You should jus’ drink outta’ plastic or something. Saves for chaos like this.”
☜ ✖ ☞ ⊱ ❝...Cut...❞ Dual shutters blink over hues of frost coloration, remembering only now the damage cut class can have upon skin and quickly does head duck down to assess extremities. Palms appear void of blood or glass-made slit, small shake of head following her observation. ❝No; I'm fine.❞ Minuscule smile is displayed upon visage, gaze casting back upward only for lips to fall in faintly parted 'o'.
❝Y-you don't need to help, it was my fault. I, ah...❞ How does one begin to explain, she wonders, that she merely became infuriated with herself due to creating unnecessary stress and thus provoking shatter with her mind? ❝...W-well it slid off the table, I hit it with my elbow.❞ Pause. Exhale. ❝But thank you. --for the suggestion too, I guess. Heh...❞
