Mikh'a looked like he had been punched in the gut. Erik's staying hand on his shoulder offered no comfort when Nako'li gave them the information he had been dreading to hear and the boy's heart dropped as he stared at the strange Keeper in front of him. He couldn't fight the tremble that rose up in his form, which could thankfully be mistaken for his small body being subjected to the extreme cold temperatures they were forced to endure in Ishgard for as long as they had been out there.
As if sensing Mikh'a's distress Brynjar shifted over closer to the boy and Erik, nudging his nose against gloved fingers. Absently Mikh'a's hand curled along the scaly nose and he let out a slow breath.
Nako'li's changing body temperature was enough to snap him out of his daze, though even as steam rose slowly around him in the raging storm the boy couldn't be deterred from his upset. He gazed a moment in confusion, as if he needed to catch up mentally or something, and then nodded his head slowly. The word lingered in the air like an ominous, laughing face that only further proved Mikh'a's helplessness. "We have to go get them." he finally said out loud. "We have to go get them... we have to stop this before they find anyone else, and we have to go get get them." Those big pink eyes were wide and desperate as he looked between Nako'li and Erik - for now settled and fine with the white haired Miqo'te's presence. Where was Montblanc with the ship? They had to go. They had to go now. "They can't find anyone else. Cliodhna is--" he started, but stopped himself. He didn't want to divulge any details on the health of their comrades. Clio's aether sickness, which he knew Siha would tend to, though it would still need proper care...
"Where are we going first?" he finally asked, begging with those eyes. They had to end this before anyone else got caught. Before more damage could be done to their captured men. Their own people. The Immortal Flames did this to their own people.
Tortured.
As if sensing Mikh'a's distress Brynjar shifted over closer to the boy and Erik, nudging his nose against gloved fingers. Absently Mikh'a's hand curled along the scaly nose and he let out a slow breath.
Nako'li's changing body temperature was enough to snap him out of his daze, though even as steam rose slowly around him in the raging storm the boy couldn't be deterred from his upset. He gazed a moment in confusion, as if he needed to catch up mentally or something, and then nodded his head slowly. The word lingered in the air like an ominous, laughing face that only further proved Mikh'a's helplessness. "We have to go get them." he finally said out loud. "We have to go get them... we have to stop this before they find anyone else, and we have to go get get them." Those big pink eyes were wide and desperate as he looked between Nako'li and Erik - for now settled and fine with the white haired Miqo'te's presence. Where was Montblanc with the ship? They had to go. They had to go now. "They can't find anyone else. Cliodhna is--" he started, but stopped himself. He didn't want to divulge any details on the health of their comrades. Clio's aether sickness, which he knew Siha would tend to, though it would still need proper care...
"Where are we going first?" he finally asked, begging with those eyes. They had to end this before anyone else got caught. Before more damage could be done to their captured men. Their own people. The Immortal Flames did this to their own people.
Tortured.
