#//here ya go. i set it in a verse where cid survives since I saw you make a post about it. hope thats alright

[secondflame-archive]

@cidolfvs liked for a starter.

There is hesitation to Clive's movements as he comes to stand in the doorway of their new makeshift base of operation.

A shuffle of feet here. An uneasy breath there. He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know how to approach Cid when he is quiet like this. He doesn't think he's ever been in his presence for longer than a minute before the other chose to address him in some way, snark or no.

It's good to see him awake at least. After what happened Clive didn't think he would ever get a chance at seeing Cid on his feet again and his chest tightens at the thought of how close a call it had been. It's close to a miracle Cid made it through ar all.

Clive had all but dragged him out of the ruins, forcing a potion down his throat in hopes of it doing something to keep Cid breathing long enough to find proper help. He commanded Torgal to weave healing spell after healing spell, which likely amounted to nothing more than a bandaid on a gaping wound. Clive had called upon his Phoenix blessing too while praying to any deity that might be willing to listen, begging them to not take another companion from him, to not force him to bury another friend.

Hasn't he lost enough?

It was a selfish thought, he realizes now. They've all lost much and more, Cid perhaps most of all considering the hideout is no more. All he's worked for now amounting to little more than rubble and ashes and a handful of survivors.

"You look pale," Clive eventually offers, his voice sounding rough and small, yet still too loud for the heavy silence between them. The statement itself is undoubtedly not the most elegant way of breaking the ice either, but it'll have to do for now. At this point, he'll even take annoyance over silence. "How are you feeling?"