Zavien
"He - What?!" He doesn't quite shout, but his voice certainly rises as the shock hits him, bracing back from the blow that wipes the smile from his face. His eyes search Flora, nearly expecting her to go back to joking, to tease and tap him on the shoulder at his overreaction, but she doesn't. Her expression may be regal and pleasant, her words rehearsed, and yet there's no denying that they're real.
Zavien purses his lips, his eyebrows furrowing as he glances away. "I... hadn't realized." Why hadn't Hadama said anything? Had the Mer King been silently suffering just as Soh had? Would he be back? Could Zavien have done anything to help? Did this make him a bad friend? He tries not to blame himself too much, knowing there must be a reason Hadama hadn't told him, but it hurts to find out like this, unable to have his questions answered, unable to support his friend through whatever struggles he's experiencing.
The worry is evident on his face, yet he's still looking to Flora, doing his best to read between her smile and stiff shoulders without prying, sparing some of his concern for the leader who now has to carry the full weight of the responsibilities. He doesn't disrespect her with pity or doubt, his tone gentle only in volume. "How are you feeling about it?" It's polite in the way a distant acquaintance offers their condolences in the midst of tears, a quiet expression of sympathy with the offer of an open ear or a source of strength should she ever need it - not that he'd ever expect her to.
Zavien purses his lips, his eyebrows furrowing as he glances away. "I... hadn't realized." Why hadn't Hadama said anything? Had the Mer King been silently suffering just as Soh had? Would he be back? Could Zavien have done anything to help? Did this make him a bad friend? He tries not to blame himself too much, knowing there must be a reason Hadama hadn't told him, but it hurts to find out like this, unable to have his questions answered, unable to support his friend through whatever struggles he's experiencing.
The worry is evident on his face, yet he's still looking to Flora, doing his best to read between her smile and stiff shoulders without prying, sparing some of his concern for the leader who now has to carry the full weight of the responsibilities. He doesn't disrespect her with pity or doubt, his tone gentle only in volume. "How are you feeling about it?" It's polite in the way a distant acquaintance offers their condolences in the midst of tears, a quiet expression of sympathy with the offer of an open ear or a source of strength should she ever need it - not that he'd ever expect her to.
Keep your face to the sunshine,
And you cannot see a shadow.
And you cannot see a shadow.
