The armour is- necessary, though he would prefer it not to be. He is a dragoon no longer. But his body, weakened as it has been by months of starvation as Nidhogg's vessel, can hardly bear the weight of anything else. Monsters will not hold back their blows until he regains his strength, and the armour of the dragoon, bound to him, is light as a feather.
He starts at the sudden noise, hand flying to his lance as he turns suddenly and-
Oh. Him. Estinien releases a breath, crossing his arms.
"Ah." He looks the miqote up and down. "You needn't have sickened yourself. I do not make a habit of needing rescue."
Felih drops his expression of feigned irritation, shaking his head with a little laugh before stepping closer and sidling up to the man, ridiculously physical as ever- though, Felih admittedly did it more on purpose just to poke at Estinien some. The dragoon was terribly amusing, in some ways.
He grins, and says, "Good to see those reflexes are still sharp as ever. And well, I know you can handle yourself, but you and I both know that Alphinaud and Aymeric are the type to fuss, even if they don't show it." He pauses. "Well, even if Aymeric doesn't show it, anyway." Alphinaud's fretting is often incredibly blatant, despite his best efforts to keep it under wraps.
"Then you know well as I that they would never have just let me be on my way. Had the boy his way, I'd be in that infirmary still."
And there would have been goodbyes, he does not add, and the two of them would have seen him weighed down with medicines and supplies he didn't need.
"Well enough." He says and for a moment he says nothing more, looking past Felih instead of at him. But he is different now. He is trying. And so, more awkwardly, he attempts actually volunteering information. "It has been too long since I last saw green."
Felih just grins. "Oh, as if that would be so bad," says the hypocrite, because he too constantly attempts to leave infirmary beds to do his own wandering and straying. "Gods forbid, people care about you," he teases, bumping his shoulder against Estinien's arm, before he looks out over the expanse and hums.
"Green, huh... yeah," he agrees after a moment. "For me, it's the sea," he says. "So much time surrounded by stone and ice, or dust and desert... getting to go back to the sea is... a welcome sight. I suppose it must be the same with you and these green wilds."
His tail sways as he mulls it over, before murmuring, "Still, a letter back wouldn't kill you. I've heard our dear Lord Commander frets over you still, though he is much more accustomed to your sudden leaves than the rest of us, I imagine."
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He starts at the sudden noise, hand flying to his lance as he turns suddenly and-
Oh. Him. Estinien releases a breath, crossing his arms.
"Ah." He looks the miqote up and down. "You needn't have sickened yourself. I do not make a habit of needing rescue."
no subject
He grins, and says, "Good to see those reflexes are still sharp as ever. And well, I know you can handle yourself, but you and I both know that Alphinaud and Aymeric are the type to fuss, even if they don't show it." He pauses. "Well, even if Aymeric doesn't show it, anyway." Alphinaud's fretting is often incredibly blatant, despite his best efforts to keep it under wraps.
"I do hope you've been well?"
no subject
And there would have been goodbyes, he does not add, and the two of them would have seen him weighed down with medicines and supplies he didn't need.
"Well enough." He says and for a moment he says nothing more, looking past Felih instead of at him. But he is different now. He is trying. And so, more awkwardly, he attempts actually volunteering information. "It has been too long since I last saw green."
no subject
"Green, huh... yeah," he agrees after a moment. "For me, it's the sea," he says. "So much time surrounded by stone and ice, or dust and desert... getting to go back to the sea is... a welcome sight. I suppose it must be the same with you and these green wilds."
His tail sways as he mulls it over, before murmuring, "Still, a letter back wouldn't kill you. I've heard our dear Lord Commander frets over you still, though he is much more accustomed to your sudden leaves than the rest of us, I imagine."