[Zarkon watches Coran brush himself off and assists with a short burst of cold wind. Again, he doesn't ask first, but this is Zarkon's way of being helpful, while helping himself practice. It's brusque, but not hostile.]
Of course it's good.
[The wind gets sharper and colder. He doesn't appreciate anything that's less than approval of Honerva. And yet... He is concerned about her. Even he can't deny that. He almost hadn't recognized her, at first. He doesn't like to admit to weakness or Honerva's weakness, but Coran's familiarity and helpfulness are reassuring. Zarkon misses his fellow paladins and his familiar life. Alfor had always trusted Coran. The wind only increases in strength as Zarkon struggles with his conflicted feelings. In the end, his concern for Honerva wins out.]
no subject
Of course it's good.
[The wind gets sharper and colder. He doesn't appreciate anything that's less than approval of Honerva. And yet... He is concerned about her. Even he can't deny that. He almost hadn't recognized her, at first. He doesn't like to admit to weakness or Honerva's weakness, but Coran's familiarity and helpfulness are reassuring. Zarkon misses his fellow paladins and his familiar life. Alfor had always trusted Coran. The wind only increases in strength as Zarkon struggles with his conflicted feelings. In the end, his concern for Honerva wins out.]
However, she may be--unwell.