[ daan bites down. kaveh can feel the reverberation of it end somewhere in his own marrow. it is a bite that would have shattered a soul, had it been clenched between daan's teeth. the helplessness is something that kaveh ought to have learned by now - it rests uncomfortably there, between the tense line of his shoulderblades, swimming in the caverns of his chest. his heart feels as if it would bleed out from his throat. daan is in pain, and there is nothing that kaveh can do.

so kaveh holds him. kaveh holds him there. he pulls daan into his arms, against him, holds him until the wracking subsides, until the tear claws its way down daan's face. when daan breathes again, the curled tote drops down with a dull slap of jute on wood. kaveh looks, with some horror, at the shape of daan's arm.

that, kaveh thinks, is not a blessing. that is a curse. ]

Oh. [ kaveh says, and the fury leaps at it. snaps at his heels as he takes it in. ] Oh. - no, lean against me. [ that is the first course of action. kaveh's arm hovers, and then, gently rests where flesh meets bone. ] It's mere bone. You'll need several more of the circles, won't you? But you can't withstand it, Daan. No mortal ought to be able to.