[What the hell— What business does an unassuming-looking man like Dokja have picking Liem up like he was made of gossamer? Liem maintains a stubbornly neutral expression as he’s scooped up, but the tension in his body suggests unexpressed wariness at being held like this. Or perhaps it’s just wariness about their imminent trip up into the sky (sort of).
Regardless of which it is, he does take Dokja’s suggestion literally, looping an arm over his shoulders so he can cling with as much dignity as he can muster as they are hurled into the air. The experience is somehow more upsetting than flying high up over Alenroux on the back of Quetz’s flying lizard had been; something about their tiny size makes the whole thing feel a little less stable, less reliable, like the wind Dokja summons to speed them on their way might just toss them end-over-end with no resistance at all.
He can’t deny the results, though, as they climb swiftly up toward the tree’s upper reaches. Liem feels the pull of magic shift with them, until it’s no-longer pointing up but rather straight ahead, somewhere within the dense green foliage.]
It’s in there somewhere.
[He forces himself to release one arm so he can point at a specific part of the shrub’s leafy branches. Dear god, don’t let him be blown away like a dandelion seed. People weren’t meant to fly around like this.]
no subject
Regardless of which it is, he does take Dokja’s suggestion literally, looping an arm over his shoulders so he can cling with as much dignity as he can muster as they are hurled into the air. The experience is somehow more upsetting than flying high up over Alenroux on the back of Quetz’s flying lizard had been; something about their tiny size makes the whole thing feel a little less stable, less reliable, like the wind Dokja summons to speed them on their way might just toss them end-over-end with no resistance at all.
He can’t deny the results, though, as they climb swiftly up toward the tree’s upper reaches. Liem feels the pull of magic shift with them, until it’s no-longer pointing up but rather straight ahead, somewhere within the dense green foliage.]
It’s in there somewhere.
[He forces himself to release one arm so he can point at a specific part of the shrub’s leafy branches. Dear god, don’t let him be blown away like a dandelion seed. People weren’t meant to fly around like this.]