[ When reality finally re-settles around them, Winter teeters a little where he kneels, his face gone a shade or two paler (somehow). There’s a sharp pain in his head, right behind his eyes. A trickle of blood ekes slowly out of one nostril, and he wipes it away with the back of his hand.
Alright, he thinks. Message received. ]
There wasn’t really time.
[ Shadowheart, for her part, seems a bit unsure of where to turn her attention first, but Winter is quick to rectify that. He puts a hand on Astarion’s shoulder – stay down – and at the same time rises to his own feet. ]
Heal him. I’ll help Karlach.
[ Karlach, who is still currently tangling with a heavily injured, but not yet dead Spectator. Winter won’t hear an argument from either Shadowheart or Astarion, so whatever conversations there are to be had will have to wait until after the fight.
Sorry, Astarion! He won’t keep you waiting too long! ]
no subject
Alright, he thinks. Message received. ]
There wasn’t really time.
[ Shadowheart, for her part, seems a bit unsure of where to turn her attention first, but Winter is quick to rectify that. He puts a hand on Astarion’s shoulder – stay down – and at the same time rises to his own feet. ]
Heal him. I’ll help Karlach.
[ Karlach, who is still currently tangling with a heavily injured, but not yet dead Spectator. Winter won’t hear an argument from either Shadowheart or Astarion, so whatever conversations there are to be had will have to wait until after the fight.
Sorry, Astarion! He won’t keep you waiting too long! ]