[ It might not be significant, but this time, the discomfort Aymeric is in cannot be directly attributed to the primal's rage alone but his mind conjuring up the things he fears most. Perhaps it does not seem like a significant difference, but even as he stirs restlessly, something in his movements is less strained than previous attempts.
He still does not have the strength to move as freely as he wishes, but at least he can move a little, and of his own accord. With his eyes now open and him trying his best to shake off the last remnants of sleep, his gaze shifts towards hers, and the hand that reached for Estinien now reaches for her.
Although the woman in white that he beheld in his dreams had her face obscured, something in his mind is completing the details of that picture. It happens slowly, of course, but gradually, her features come into sharper view, and one of the first things that registers with him is the ribbon at the end of her braid. The ribbon itself is, of course, only a ribbon, but it is the color that draws his attention. It is a similar color as the one used on Ishgard's flag, and that she wears that color to decorate her hair is something that sparks something in his mind.
Thus far, his mind has been clouded and dormant, thanks largely to the primal's influence, but something about the sight of that ribbon has caused the fog swirling in his mind to roll back just a fraction.
His arm moves, shaking just slightly from the strain needed to lift it, but he manages to move it just enough to reach for her hand before she pulls it away to call for Estinien.
The shaking in his arm travels to the rest of his frame, as if his actions are requiring no small amount of effort to complete, and even though the brief healing applied to his injuries has helped ease his breathing, he still has to fight for enough breath to say what he wishes to. And, naturally, the primal is blocking his efforts, but he is doing his best to push back against that as well. ]
L- [ A cough interrupts him, but he tries again. Something about this seems important, that it is an action that he must complete, no matter what tries to stop him amd to stifle his words. Even if doing this means he is short of breath once again, something inside him is telling him it's worth it. ]
Lantaa. [ He only has enough breath to say her name, her true one this time, and once he does, his arm falls again and he has to lie still, that small exertion having taken a lot from him once more.
But, strangely enough, even though the primal roars and clamors in his mind, and he flinches as it crashes down upon him, he does not bend as thoroughly beneath it as he had previously.
He still is not very strong, of course, and although he does not catch every word that Estinien says to him, the overall message sinks in.
There is an order in Estinien's words, and Aymeric feels compelled to obey, at least as best as he can. So, with that in mind, he places a hand down upon the ground, pushing against it so that he might push himself up as well.
He nearly falls back down, muscles still clearly lacking their usual strength, but he catches himself before that can happen. And unlike the last time he stumbled and fell, he does not injure himself again. It seems to take an eternity, as he can only move one small ilm at a time, but he finally manages to reach a sitting position.
Standing seems like a daunting task, if he can achieve it at all, but at least sitting up on his own is a start. ]
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He still does not have the strength to move as freely as he wishes, but at least he can move a little, and of his own accord. With his eyes now open and him trying his best to shake off the last remnants of sleep, his gaze shifts towards hers, and the hand that reached for Estinien now reaches for her.
Although the woman in white that he beheld in his dreams had her face obscured, something in his mind is completing the details of that picture. It happens slowly, of course, but gradually, her features come into sharper view, and one of the first things that registers with him is the ribbon at the end of her braid. The ribbon itself is, of course, only a ribbon, but it is the color that draws his attention. It is a similar color as the one used on Ishgard's flag, and that she wears that color to decorate her hair is something that sparks something in his mind.
Thus far, his mind has been clouded and dormant, thanks largely to the primal's influence, but something about the sight of that ribbon has caused the fog swirling in his mind to roll back just a fraction.
His arm moves, shaking just slightly from the strain needed to lift it, but he manages to move it just enough to reach for her hand before she pulls it away to call for Estinien.
The shaking in his arm travels to the rest of his frame, as if his actions are requiring no small amount of effort to complete, and even though the brief healing applied to his injuries has helped ease his breathing, he still has to fight for enough breath to say what he wishes to. And, naturally, the primal is blocking his efforts, but he is doing his best to push back against that as well. ]
L- [ A cough interrupts him, but he tries again. Something about this seems important, that it is an action that he must complete, no matter what tries to stop him amd to stifle his words. Even if doing this means he is short of breath once again, something inside him is telling him it's worth it. ]
Lantaa. [ He only has enough breath to say her name, her true one this time, and once he does, his arm falls again and he has to lie still, that small exertion having taken a lot from him once more.
But, strangely enough, even though the primal roars and clamors in his mind, and he flinches as it crashes down upon him, he does not bend as thoroughly beneath it as he had previously.
He still is not very strong, of course, and although he does not catch every word that Estinien says to him, the overall message sinks in.
There is an order in Estinien's words, and Aymeric feels compelled to obey, at least as best as he can. So, with that in mind, he places a hand down upon the ground, pushing against it so that he might push himself up as well.
He nearly falls back down, muscles still clearly lacking their usual strength, but he catches himself before that can happen. And unlike the last time he stumbled and fell, he does not injure himself again. It seems to take an eternity, as he can only move one small ilm at a time, but he finally manages to reach a sitting position.
Standing seems like a daunting task, if he can achieve it at all, but at least sitting up on his own is a start. ]