[There's a soft brush of familiar dark power against his mind, just enough to confirm that he's awake, before a quavering voice breaks the silence.]
Vizh?
[Everyone helps where they can, but what can she do at this hour when anyone in their right mind ought to be asleep? She might have gone to Pietro, if she couldn't sense Crystal in his room too. And after what she'd seen happen to Vision...she needed to see him for herself to make sure he was really all right. The Rings of Honor don't lie, but it had been a particularly brutal nightmare.
She hasn't even bothered to find a shawl or slippers and has wandered the distance to the Steward's room in nothing but her black lacey shift. It's meant to be soft and cute, for Wanda's eyes and comfort rather than anyone else's, so even if it wasn't for the tear tracks on her cheeks, it's obvious that her reasons for coming here are perfectly innocent.
That and how small her voice sounds. She's crept towards him on Craft-muffled feet but has stopped within arm's reach of the foot of the bed, pale and trembling. There's an invisible line here that she won't cross without direct invitation, even in her distress.]
no subject
Vizh?
[Everyone helps where they can, but what can she do at this hour when anyone in their right mind ought to be asleep? She might have gone to Pietro, if she couldn't sense Crystal in his room too. And after what she'd seen happen to Vision...she needed to see him for herself to make sure he was really all right. The Rings of Honor don't lie, but it had been a particularly brutal nightmare.
She hasn't even bothered to find a shawl or slippers and has wandered the distance to the Steward's room in nothing but her black lacey shift. It's meant to be soft and cute, for Wanda's eyes and comfort rather than anyone else's, so even if it wasn't for the tear tracks on her cheeks, it's obvious that her reasons for coming here are perfectly innocent.
That and how small her voice sounds. She's crept towards him on Craft-muffled feet but has stopped within arm's reach of the foot of the bed, pale and trembling. There's an invisible line here that she won't cross without direct invitation, even in her distress.]