The hand that unearthed itself from a pocket to accept Jaelyn's burned, overly warm through the worn fabric of fingerless gloves. It matched the sudden warmth infusing his smile which appeared in direct response to the undeniable flavor of truth sweetening the squire's farewell. "Go on to your training, Jaelyn," he released the girl from any further sense of obligation, knowing full well he had taken advantage of her guilty conscience. Yet now his feet felt as if they remembered their way around Syliras and could carry him out of potential regret, find free for him again when the time came. "Keep well," he added with a sobering expression. |