[The pulse may be faint, but it's enough. It confirms he's alive and well. There's also no helping this when they're on opposing sides of a war, he should well know that the opportunity for "talking" is few and far in-between. That reprieve at the Martyr's shrine must feel like a lifetime away now, if not a faraway miracle borne from some cosmic accident.
Normally, she wouldn't need anything else. Normally, this would be enough: a literal pulse check from him to see if he's still hanging in there, pitiful and pathetic creature he may be for all the power he possesses. But what almost did him in was not normal. How he let it happen to himself was not normal. The circumstances and consequences are grave in her eyes, so she can't settle for just this. Especially when there's no telling if there won't be a repeat, no predicting how much worse the rot over this bad blood can get.
Nevertheless, the channel is open, and neither of them had shut it off. So it didn't matter how long it took for anything to be communicated through, and it'll be another minute or two before a response echoes back from his hesitant acknowledgement.]
Well?
[There's not a trace of that cheerful and easygoing (if not outright overbearing and mischievous) girl from the other day left tonight, but it's not really like that time in the caverns either. There's a sense of coolness and distance, but it's not machine-like or chilling. Maybe it's the natural byproduct of the gulf that exists between them, in more ways than one given how far apart they stand on innumerable fronts? There's no blame or resentment from the other end either, however, despite the vaguely accusatory impression that such a simple word may give. Almost as if... asking, no, demanding an explanation?
no subject
Normally, she wouldn't need anything else. Normally, this would be enough: a literal pulse check from him to see if he's still hanging in there, pitiful and pathetic creature he may be for all the power he possesses. But what almost did him in was not normal. How he let it happen to himself was not normal. The circumstances and consequences are grave in her eyes, so she can't settle for just this. Especially when there's no telling if there won't be a repeat, no predicting how much worse the rot over this bad blood can get.
Nevertheless, the channel is open, and neither of them had shut it off. So it didn't matter how long it took for anything to be communicated through, and it'll be another minute or two before a response echoes back from his hesitant acknowledgement.]
Well?
[There's not a trace of that cheerful and easygoing (if not outright overbearing and mischievous) girl from the other day left tonight, but it's not really like that time in the caverns either. There's a sense of coolness and distance, but it's not machine-like or chilling. Maybe it's the natural byproduct of the gulf that exists between them, in more ways than one given how far apart they stand on innumerable fronts? There's no blame or resentment from the other end either, however, despite the vaguely accusatory impression that such a simple word may give. Almost as if... asking, no, demanding an explanation?
"Well". Does he think he owes her one?]