Hisirdoux paces outside of Skrael's door, the skin under his eyes darker than usual. His top knot is frayed and tangled, and as he wrings his hands, he tries to take another step toward entering Skrael's chambers-- but then rethinks it, and turns around once more, walking the length of the hallway and then back. This is the third time he's tried. -(but-master)
Skrael hears the steps outside his rooms and puts his book down, waiting for the knock. Seconds tick by and the steps resume, moving away, whereupon he picks the book up and continue reading.
The same happens again, and he frowns irritably.
When it seems about to repeat a third time, he goes to open the door, unsurprised to see his apprentice outside.
Hisirdoux! Unless this is a new ritual you’re working on, kindly make up your mind and- The words never leave his mouth. The tense line around his mouth softens at the sight of the tired, haunted look in the boy’s face.
“What is this?"
He reaches out to take the twisting hands in an attempt to still them, to ground him. All that nervous energy, all that fear.
"All will be well." Kind, reassuring, just as when he was a child waking from a nightmare. Gently ushering him into the room. "Come, tell me what happened."
@but-master
