"That is a wonderful idea," he says, rising from the bed - stopping briefly to wrap a kilt around his waist (if she's dressed, it only seems fair that he should put on clothes as well) before he joins her at the table.
He allows his fingertips to graze the shoulder of the gown, and it should be enough to take the majority of the weight off again, before he sits beside her. Reaching for the stick that is to mimic the writing brush, he idly rolls it in his fingers.
(For so long, even such a basic and simple motion brought pain due to his arthritis, so the feeling is still...quite strange.)
"I know my hands were the first thing you healed when I arrived here in the desert," he says. "But whenever I am able to hold something without discomfort, a small part of my mind just...does not understand why I don't ache."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-07-04 11:27 pm (UTC)He allows his fingertips to graze the shoulder of the gown, and it should be enough to take the majority of the weight off again, before he sits beside her. Reaching for the stick that is to mimic the writing brush, he idly rolls it in his fingers.
(For so long, even such a basic and simple motion brought pain due to his arthritis, so the feeling is still...quite strange.)
"I know my hands were the first thing you healed when I arrived here in the desert," he says. "But whenever I am able to hold something without discomfort, a small part of my mind just...does not understand why I don't ache."