[ Standing this close, with contact between them, is an even more potent experience than before, back at the fort; there, she'd been dulled, cut off so completely without her sight and the abilities she normally possesses to be able to read a person — their fate, their future, their past. It's then she finally senses it, the stirring that comes off him in waves now, strong enough to impact her even though she's not directly affected, and the longer she continues to touch him the more it exacerbates the effects.
But she's captivated, drawn in by the power that leeches from the blood on her fingertips, not necessarily absorbed into her own body but moving over her and she draws in a breath to try and steel herself through the surge. ]
Yes. [ Her voice is low, faint, as if she's hearing herself speak from somewhere distant, as she gazes down at the crimson staining her skin deeply enough to permeate her fingerprints, painting those subtle whorls and rings, her hand sticking to his when it shifts in his hold. ] I'm afraid only one of us can heal so readily.
no subject
But she's captivated, drawn in by the power that leeches from the blood on her fingertips, not necessarily absorbed into her own body but moving over her and she draws in a breath to try and steel herself through the surge. ]
Yes. [ Her voice is low, faint, as if she's hearing herself speak from somewhere distant, as she gazes down at the crimson staining her skin deeply enough to permeate her fingerprints, painting those subtle whorls and rings, her hand sticking to his when it shifts in his hold. ] I'm afraid only one of us can heal so readily.