There was no sign of Syr
Faramund in the infirmary, ending him with the conclusion the man had gone a bit further on his quest than intended. Or perhaps forfeit it altogether and ‘gone for a drink’ instead, as he fancied joking about on the regular.
Some months ago, Aarno might’ve yet taken that as a likely option, perhaps even hissed it out loud. Now, he wasn’t so sure anymore, cursed by a depth of experience to having an amount of faith when it came to that one particular Dawn knight. Hovering with indecision, he gave a huff and scanned the space for any which wanton detail to latch onto, a direction to go from here.
To maybe help— something— She had looked so distraught there wasn’t possibly a way he couldn’t—
The intention had only half-formed when it was promptly stricken through, a touch seizing him by the wrist. He flinched to attention, brows arched as his stare moored upon Farren, the words inspiring equally surprise as they did relief. Both were clear upon his face, slowly melting away to calm approval as he nodded, clasping her hand within his.
“ Sure, I’ll stay. The search party has clearly ran off and in interest of time and success, we’re most like better off waiting here, letting him find us in turn. “
Releasing her, he shuffled a little to hook his foot around the leg of a nearby stool, pulling it closer. Once it was settled to the immediate vicinity of her bed, he sat down on it, movements careful against the sting in his side. He deflated gradually therein, hunching against elbows as his arms folded against his chest, chin sinking into the wrap about his shoulders. The warmth begun transmuting all to lead as he sat, from his eyelids to his breath.
“ Pardon me— It appears I— Am not very lively company. “ He struggled out, glancing at her in passing, trying a smile.
“ Seems as the cold was the lone thing keeping me properly awake. So should I go out of a sudden, be assured it is not due yourself at all. “
Farren Lóthlindor 
