[ CASTAWAYS ]
“Ah… How are you feeling?” The storm had left a good many worse for wear, and until the rain lets up, Sephiran cannot see any of them making it back to the mainland without a great deal of luck involved.
Thus comes the more important task of keeping everyone well enough to wait until that occurs. “I have healing magic if you need any-”
A small jingling sound as he gestures towards his staff, and he glances down. Out of everything to remain-
He cannot help but smile, somewhat amused, “Or a charm, if you’re still in the mood.”
By the feet of that black-haired man lies Jeralt, on the sand and drenched in seawater like an idiot. He’s, fortunately, still alive and kicking, though his body is quite sore from all of this mess.
“I’m good. Thanks.” Jeralt coughs out as he slowly pulls himself up to his feet. He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to ruffle the moisture out of it. There's no injuries that need any healing, aside from the fatigue that's settling in.
Do people still care about these little things when there’s an ongoing storm? At the mention of those charms, he lets out a proper laugh. “If you’re willing to take mine as a token of appreciation, then why not?”