It had been awful, and Jigano nodded wearily, finding a weak smile for his old friend. "I am, too," he said quietly, but those three words were packed tight with feeling. It was too bad the good feeling couldn't last, but at hearing that Sam had been attacked all relief and gratitude fled in the face of his anger towards the one who had dared such a trespass. Sam had been targeted, threatened with violence, and for what? Someone too cowardly to confront the Voice themselves. Jigano was ready to leap to violence himself right then and there, if only the culprit had been within reach of his claws.
Hearing that Remi had asked for help did little to soothe him. He hadn't stopped by the Notice Board yet, though he would need to do so soon for reasons of his own. The lorekeeper seethed as he considered his options, knowing that even his own senses would be of no help on a week-cold trail in a shop where so many feet had passed. The alchemist should have known to use his leonine nose...!
The growl rising in his throat caught suddenly at the touch to his hand, and he snarled instinctively down at Sam before the sound died to silence. He blinked at the bookmaker, taking in his uneasiness, his fear, and the blightbeast shuddered hard before stepping away and raising his clawed hands to hide his face, feeling the sharpness of his teeth and the anger that still twisted his expression. Isuma chirruped softly from the chandelier, coaxing him to calm down as he slowly retracted his more bestial traits, wrestling with the blight's power over him all the while.
"You shouldn't... have to live like that though," he managed to get out, taking deep, shuddering breaths to try and calm himself. "You, of all people. You're a bookmaker, for Mort's sake. You mean no harm to anyone. What the hell did they think they would accomplish, threatening you?" Though Sam had done plenty of harm without meaning to by following his goddess's commands before...
Hearing that Remi had asked for help did little to soothe him. He hadn't stopped by the Notice Board yet, though he would need to do so soon for reasons of his own. The lorekeeper seethed as he considered his options, knowing that even his own senses would be of no help on a week-cold trail in a shop where so many feet had passed. The alchemist should have known to use his leonine nose...!
The growl rising in his throat caught suddenly at the touch to his hand, and he snarled instinctively down at Sam before the sound died to silence. He blinked at the bookmaker, taking in his uneasiness, his fear, and the blightbeast shuddered hard before stepping away and raising his clawed hands to hide his face, feeling the sharpness of his teeth and the anger that still twisted his expression. Isuma chirruped softly from the chandelier, coaxing him to calm down as he slowly retracted his more bestial traits, wrestling with the blight's power over him all the while.
"You shouldn't... have to live like that though," he managed to get out, taking deep, shuddering breaths to try and calm himself. "You, of all people. You're a bookmaker, for Mort's sake. You mean no harm to anyone. What the hell did they think they would accomplish, threatening you?" Though Sam had done plenty of harm without meaning to by following his goddess's commands before...
