[Dry. Irritatingly, stubbornly dry— which is saying so much when stubbornness already becomes them out of habit, grousing frown gone taut at all its corners.
(And if it does anything as far as favors go, it's that it balances out the untempered worry in his eyes. His browline. Where it pinches into thin marks smack dab in the middle of his forehead.) Aimed away for barely any real amount of time without an explanation before he's shifting on that bed: knees pushed into that aching cot around one flattened palm to help him twist around, feeling every last spring and metal wire underneath him as he goes, until he's facing Fenris finally— and pulling him back to get a better look at his own guard's spine. His neck. Shoulders, arms— anything, really.
no subject
[Dry. Irritatingly, stubbornly dry— which is saying so much when stubbornness already becomes them out of habit, grousing frown gone taut at all its corners.
(And if it does anything as far as favors go, it's that it balances out the untempered worry in his eyes. His browline. Where it pinches into thin marks smack dab in the middle of his forehead.) Aimed away for barely any real amount of time without an explanation before he's shifting on that bed: knees pushed into that aching cot around one flattened palm to help him twist around, feeling every last spring and metal wire underneath him as he goes, until he's facing Fenris finally— and pulling him back to get a better look at his own guard's spine. His neck. Shoulders, arms— anything, really.
One agitated puff signaling his intent.]
Has anyone even looked you over yet?