[They're not handling it well. Hallucinations are his wheelhouse, not theirs. Their gaze locks on something over his shoulder (don't look) and their expression...]
[Doubtless he wouldn't grace it with a description.]
[Their breath is ragged, desperate - and he has to stoop to rescue the knife from the ground.]
[There's nothing worse, nothing more unsettling and invasive and uncalled for than grabbing someone who expects violence from that sort of abrupt motion, who expects a fist raised and fingertips seizing a hank of hair to pull them roughly along. He still has the collar of his shirt yanked over his mouth - it doesn't take long, even with fingers stained and slippery with sweat, trembling from the strain of fending away the cold hum of voices, to cut a strip of cloth from the hem and hold it out to them.]
no subject
[Doubtless he wouldn't grace it with a description.]
[Their breath is ragged, desperate - and he has to stoop to rescue the knife from the ground.]
[There's nothing worse, nothing more unsettling and invasive and uncalled for than grabbing someone who expects violence from that sort of abrupt motion, who expects a fist raised and fingertips seizing a hank of hair to pull them roughly along. He still has the collar of his shirt yanked over his mouth - it doesn't take long, even with fingers stained and slippery with sweat, trembling from the strain of fending away the cold hum of voices, to cut a strip of cloth from the hem and hold it out to them.]
[Cover your face.]
[Please.]