[ Xingchen's scars also vanish - even the angry one at his throat. Even the old, far more faded ones from training.
Too loud. Too much scent. Even the soft cloth of Xiao Yang's robes is too much. And then the voices inside his head, making him curl tighter in on himself after he stops heaving.
It's the gentle fingers through his hair and guiding voice - no echo behind it - that draws a quiet breath and he leans into the other's hand. He barely understands, eyes squinting open.
Feed...? Automatically he searches for...something, before returning an intent gaze to Lestat. ]
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Too loud. Too much scent. Even the soft cloth of Xiao Yang's robes is too much. And then the voices inside his head, making him curl tighter in on himself after he stops heaving.
It's the gentle fingers through his hair and guiding voice - no echo behind it - that draws a quiet breath and he leans into the other's hand. He barely understands, eyes squinting open.
Feed...? Automatically he searches for...something, before returning an intent gaze to Lestat. ]