Sep 22, 2021
“ your hands are trembling. ” @jacob
‘So they are.’
As if he hadn't noticed; detached from his body as he so often is. There's very little point holding his hands steady (old attempts have taught him better), so he curls the left into a loose fist and rests it in his lap, out of sight.
There’s a moment where he may be entirely absent, something glassy washing over his irises and falling away with a few blinks, a little concentration. It seems to Caldwell like the beginnings of madness, so he swallows each symptom as they come to pass.
‘I wouldn’t concern yourself, Reverend. It’ll pass, as all things do.’