Welcome to Gaia! ::

“Mm, with nine…” Jakkoa said, “I think you could forgive anyone for being ‘overwhelmed’ eventually.”

Jakkoa studied Hargitt then in the pause, taking in the rare hint of a smile—but not without also observing the odder, earlier reaction and making note to inquire further at a later date. For now, it seemed sufficient to allow a temporary, easy quiet settle between them while he finished his meal. That in itself, though, did not take long, and after finishing, setting it aside and managing what minimal cleanup was required after, he stood, dusted his hands, and approached his traveling companion.

In his defense, Hargitt had not said ‘no’, and he could use the practice.

That didn’t mean he let himself think Hargitt was really fully anticipating him and thus, to minimize on opportunities for floundering objections over ‘silly’ reasons, Jak wasted no time in making his intentions clear—by acting on them. The first hand he braced at Hargitt’s shoulder to help balance and hoist himself into a secure position at the man’s back atop his rock perch was already pressing and then kneading along a bunched cluster of muscle all but before he had sat himself down. The second came close behind.

“The tighter you let something get wound, you know,” he said, “the sooner it snaps. And you have a marvelous back. Really. You needn’t leave it all tied in knots. It’s begging to hurt yourself.”

Heat swelled unbidden into Jak’s face at the initial sound, because he had not been anticipating quite that—but Hargitt’s back was to him, so whatever color made it to his cheeks was invisible at least to his perception, and what a back it was. So Jakkoa continued without a word, no longer (admittedly) trusting himself to speak in the immediate aftermath.

It was simpler, anyway, just to touch, and Hargitt was tense. But grappling with tension in this form and mitigating it with his hands was a familiar process, and with a captive audience, it was easy to proceed. This time, however, once the rest of him relaxed to the situation, he opted to experiment. Magic had always come slowly to him. Painfully so, in some instances. But here, with Hargitt’s body under his hands, he felt it there in its faint traces, perhaps just enough more accessible to make use of.

So he tried, at least. Gathering his focus as he worked his hands through more familiar motions and worked physically over the kinks of bound muscle in his companion’s back, he also drew upon his magic and — minimal though it was — some did move to his bidding. A trickle of energy which he summoned up from himself like a shallow reserve of water from a drying well, and passed through his fingers to bid into Hargitt’s body and seek out the worst offenders in terms of sources of pain or tension.

He couldn’t have said how long he stayed, wordlessly working his way through the process, but when he ‘finished’ — a relative term under the circumstances, but one he defined as ‘had worked through all the worst of the man’s knots and suspected Hargitt would appreciate some space to himself’ — he let his hands drop away with some reluctance.

“Sorry to have startled you,” he said, “but I think you will feel better for it.”

With that, he slipped from the rock, giving Hargitt that space and, after only a moment’s more debate, turning to seek the privacy of his own tent for the evening.

“Sleep well, Hargitt.”