[ He watches again, intently. She seems to handle it better this time, but perhaps she's simply getting used to it. Either way, when she tells him to bare his chest he does so. His hands raise, being to unfasten buttons and clasps from his jacket (he wears no more clothing in winter than he does any other time, and no less in summer). When it's undone, he does the same with the white shirt he wears underneath.
The skin beneath his clothing is, if it's possible, even paler than the rest of him. ]
You, I think, [ he says, eyeing the sigil in her hands. ] If only to ensure that it is done.
[ A pause, and he asks- ] What is this one called?
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The skin beneath his clothing is, if it's possible, even paler than the rest of him. ]
You, I think, [ he says, eyeing the sigil in her hands. ] If only to ensure that it is done.
[ A pause, and he asks- ] What is this one called?