His dear, nervous friend. Jigano closed his journal and tucked it into his satchel, ambling his way closer as soon as Sam looked up and the moonlight revealed his face. The old, familiar stutter that the bard hadn't heard in so long caused the welcoming smile to fade from his face, however, and he hurried over to the Chronicler's side.
"What's wrong? Are you alright?" He knelt in the sand, heedless of how it clung to his loose trouser legs so that he could look up at his friend worriedly, checking him over for fresh wounds or injuries that might have drawn the old vocal tick back out. "I wanted to study the geysers under the moonlight, to see if they... well, never mind that." His studies mattered far less than his friend's health or fear, and he reached out tentatively to rest his fingers against Sam's arm, knowing how much the other man found reassurance in such contact.
"What's wrong? Are you alright?" He knelt in the sand, heedless of how it clung to his loose trouser legs so that he could look up at his friend worriedly, checking him over for fresh wounds or injuries that might have drawn the old vocal tick back out. "I wanted to study the geysers under the moonlight, to see if they... well, never mind that." His studies mattered far less than his friend's health or fear, and he reached out tentatively to rest his fingers against Sam's arm, knowing how much the other man found reassurance in such contact.
