truthseeker * ;

He glanced up at the Miqo’te woman, blinking as he held in hand a whetstone - his axe resting beside him. He looked back down the axe, then back up to Y’shtola. “Is… this not resting?” He asked, confused. Yerentai hadn’t been into any trouble. Not even trying to start a fight. He was, admittedly, restless, but he wasn’t so far out of the way. Simply sitting in the shade of the crystaline canopy that kept the outdoors of the Pendants cool. Though with it being night, it was a touch chilly from the breeze from the lake. 

“I am well enough.” He admitted at last, setting the axe aside and tucking away the whetstone. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought some fresh air would help.” Being in a room and locked away bothered him sometimes. 

The freedom of the Steppe truly never left him, even after all this time. “My apologies.” 

“... hardly so,” she comments. Her eyes remained fixed on him, though it was much less to watch him and more so to observe his aether.    A miracle is all it could be pegged to be - how he overflowed with light one moment, threatening to burst... and now, after their last battle, he was fine, as if the trials of before had never happened. She tried to wrap her head around it, all the while making sure that he was taking care of himself and making it not-so obvious that she was still so worried. She was no mother of his... but still.