When Ollie puts a finger under his chin to force him to look up, Roscoe goes still. Unnaturally so, even his breathing seems to stop after one ragged gasp at first.
"It's - it's nothing!" his words are calm, too calm, "Just - just a tool! It's not -"
Then the squeeze starts, the slowly increasing pressure, and he gasps, a jerky sudden sound, and for the first time since he was grabbed, he starts to move. Not any attempt to get free or anything...He's shaking, a noticeable tremor, eye contact firm but not...confident. More like he's afraid of what will happen if he looks away....
"An axe!" he blurts out, quick words, "It's old, broken, not - not even usable! They - they took it - I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
[His eyes lingered for a bit, before he gently let go of Roscoes chin, not in a jerky swift motion but- slowly letting his head fall down before completely moving his hand, and releasing some of the built up pressure in his grip.]
we'll get you a new one.
[After a moment of lingering, he let out a shaky sigh, and rested his own chin on top of Roscoes head, nestling into and messing up his hair a bit.]
[He didn't comment on anything Roscoe did- his shaking, his frantic voice or that panicked look in his eyes- he just seemed to ignore it, as vibrating tremors emanated from his own chest, akin to a shiver.]
