Were they in Ravka, Kirigan would remain seated there and watch him scrape himself off the floor, and perhaps chide him for bleeding on the rug—the urge is right there on his tongue—but this is neither his palace nor his rug. He must consider where he is, and how bad it would look if someone came to the door only to find it blocked off and this friendly little scene unfolding beyond the barricade. Observing Ralston's tender movements, how he carries himself, the state of his face, he concludes: bad.
So he rises. In a moment he'll drag that little table back to where it was previously, but first he walks to Ralston, stops just shy of the blood, and crouches down smoothly to equalize the level of their eyes.
"I don't know what this is," he says, one finger tugging the rest of his hand to vaguely indicate this, more as a concept than the physicality of it, "but I can see that it hurts, and that you hate that it hurts, so I believe it. I can also see you're repulsed by the idea that you might have to take any lesson from this. Even so, I hope you'll make the effort." The smoke of confidentiality leaves his voice, then, and it's back to business: "Now, I'll fetch a healer for you, yes?"
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Were they in Ravka, Kirigan would remain seated there and watch him scrape himself off the floor, and perhaps chide him for bleeding on the rug—the urge is right there on his tongue—but this is neither his palace nor his rug. He must consider where he is, and how bad it would look if someone came to the door only to find it blocked off and this friendly little scene unfolding beyond the barricade. Observing Ralston's tender movements, how he carries himself, the state of his face, he concludes: bad.
So he rises. In a moment he'll drag that little table back to where it was previously, but first he walks to Ralston, stops just shy of the blood, and crouches down smoothly to equalize the level of their eyes.
"I don't know what this is," he says, one finger tugging the rest of his hand to vaguely indicate this, more as a concept than the physicality of it, "but I can see that it hurts, and that you hate that it hurts, so I believe it. I can also see you're repulsed by the idea that you might have to take any lesson from this. Even so, I hope you'll make the effort." The smoke of confidentiality leaves his voice, then, and it's back to business: "Now, I'll fetch a healer for you, yes?"