I stopped. He was on all fours, his head hung, his cheeks wet with tears.
I reached out for him, but a hand seized my wrist. Tattletale. She shook her head at me.
Hm. What knowest thou, oh oracle?
While I backed off, Tattletale reached for Imp, whispered something in her ear.
Imp bent down and took off her mask. In a voice far gentler than any I’d heard from her before, she said, “Hey. Big brother? Let’s get out of here.”
I guess he needs to hear her to get out of the trigger event mindset?
Brian nodded, mute.
Aisha could approach him, but I couldn’t?
I’m sure Lisa has her reasons.
He stood, refusing Imp’s offer for help in standing. He clutched one elbow with one hand, the arm dangling; it wasn’t an injury, I was pretty sure.
Maybe a side effect of what just happened?
He’d healed the worst of it. It was something else, some kind of security in the posture or something like that.
Oh, right, that posture.
It’s super commonly used to show nervousness, but I suppose it makes sense for it to provide a sense of security in general.
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