[ That warmth he's gotten used to -- the warmth he genuinely thought was some sort of airs while looking after him -- breaks again. Coupled with that answer, every inch of Basch's long life as a Guard is screaming that this person is not safe here, not alone.
He holds back a growl, barely, because he doesn't want Olivine to think it's directed at him. At all. ]
I would regret hurting you [ He says. Low, tense, pleading in his eyes. He's not good at this. He doesn't know what to say.
Whatever snarl of thoughts he's working through, they're sidelined as a new group of followers come up, utter disregard for their clearly tense conversation as they begin piling praises and offers on the priest, like Basch isn't even there. ]
no subject
He holds back a growl, barely, because he doesn't want Olivine to think it's directed at him. At all. ]
I would regret hurting you [ He says. Low, tense, pleading in his eyes. He's not good at this. He doesn't know what to say.
Whatever snarl of thoughts he's working through, they're sidelined as a new group of followers come up, utter disregard for their clearly tense conversation as they begin piling praises and offers on the priest, like Basch isn't even there. ]