🎶 | @ONETHUNDERTHROW // STARTER CALL
✧*:･ﾟ| THE chill freezes him down to the very marrow of his bones. Siebren gasps, a quiet and shuddering sound, as if breathing is harsh, as if his lungs have CRYSTALIZED, Gloved palms, clad in armour they are, clutch at his chest. The armour which helps to keep him alive, harsh now that it's frozen. As much as he hates to keep his toes covered, he's not stupid, but as he huddes up, Siebren wonders if this isn't a POINTLESS EFFORT. Head tilts, looking upward at the approaching figure. Puffs of air exhaled sharply, visible breaths — he's thankful to see Zenitsu, with an ounce of guilt towards seeming to be so WEAK. Oh, would the younger one feel resentment, that he's to assist such an old man like this!
❝AH, this old man is sorry that he's in your way like this. It is so COLD in here … I hope it is not a sign of old age.❞
