         under normal circumstances, he asks before supplying aura to his mate; not only does jaune consider it somewhat intimate, but he knows how they feel when he pushes him limits and gives more than he can handle.Â
         this time, however, in the now eerily quiet alley with still disintegrating grimm dusting through a stiff breeze, jaune doesn’t wait a second before hands start glowing. he’s kneeling beside the dragon, palms out at the no-doubt painful gash spanning along their abdomen. not life-threatening, but it could have been so much worse. it could have been avoided. just because he hadn’t been watching that particular direction didn’t mean he would have been so vulnerable to require a sacrificial blow. but ren was there in a blink and there was a bark of pain before sword plunged itself through the head of the grimm that struck.Â
        he says nothing, merely glares at his own aura as it fades to pink, finding the angry looking wound and beginning the slow process of closing it up. // @becomestorm​Â
