[Wysteria, having forgotten about the soft scrap of raw lyrium the moment it'd fallen out of her possession, nonetheless fails to immediately notice the state of Mister Gecko's arm. She's concerned with searching his face, and the look of sluggish bewilderment, and what is or isn't slowly eking it's way out of his mouth in response to Dickerson's— What is it? Encouragement, let's say.
Yes, it's a good question. Most important. After all, what if they've cooked his mind like an egg and he doesn't feel anything at all? That's how they make Tranquil, isn't? With a lyrium brand. How ridiculous not to have considered the possibility in the first place—
The erratic flick of her attention lowers.
Wysteria's squawk of alarm is only half bitten off.]
no subject
Yes, it's a good question. Most important. After all, what if they've cooked his mind like an egg and he doesn't feel anything at all? That's how they make Tranquil, isn't? With a lyrium brand. How ridiculous not to have considered the possibility in the first place—
The erratic flick of her attention lowers.
Wysteria's squawk of alarm is only half bitten off.]