Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26288702-20180310221203/@comment-30014014-20180426042230

Prad hears of her order but gives no following. His mind is entirely focused on trying to undo the potential damage he did, lightning hissing in defiance as they are tempered into a healing stream.

Even as its continued revolt litters on the young man's arms, bites, darts, slashes, burns, his stubborness is unshackled. The stream continues to fill in the void of the fallen knight's wounds, wherever they are. He knows not by how much his mending tide is affecting the man, but right now, anything is better than watching. Anything.

"Come on, come on! Don't slip to the other side! You're the only one I can confer to..." he utters in silence, making little of the increasing strains he puts on his hands.