[ He frowns as he watches Dextera, the memory replaying in his head. Could he have handled that better? Maybe he should have pulled him closer, so they could fall but Guren could shield whatever happened. But the truth is, if it had been something that ended in death— he had to push him away. ]

I know. I’m sorry.

[ Gently, without letting himself stop to think about it and change his mind, he leans in and kisses him. His hand moves to rest on his cheek, and it’s only when he pulls away again that he realizes he’s left a smear of blood on Dextera’s face. He glances down at his hand, the faint sting finally recognized for what it is. It’s a big slice across his palm, looking a little like that tree root he tried to grab onto when it vanished. Had it been solid enough to cut? ]

Ah, woops. [ He’ll reach over again, this time with his sleeve to wipe Dextera’s cheek clean. ] Anyway, try not to worry about it anymore. We both made it, and we didn’t get separated.