Something struck Ddraig in the leg-more than gently. Given his already tense state, being in the room with Dallas and his mother, coupled with his stress still on his mind from his ousting from the HEMA group, he barely managed to curb his instinct to fling his arm out. A moment later, a girl far shorter than even him walked by, peeking at Dallas. She stood on crutches and bound in a cast, her long, vivid orange hair gracing her small frame like a doll. Her expression, though, was quite dour.

The sense in the room was awkward; he wasn't the only one here that was nervous, at least. A dark-skinned girl-Muslim, he guessed, by her attire, looked more on-edge than him. The really tall guy looked practically shot-out and the Valkyrie-well, she looked collected, at least, as did the Asian girl. Mrs. Dallas didn't seem to have noticed him yet-and Ddraig was hesitant to make his presence known, considering she might blow up again. He bit his lower lip as he considered.

Then Dallas moved. Ddraig tensed and the hair on his neck stood up, his eyes going wide, as Dallas moved as though in a seizure. Oh God, don't let it [i]actually[/i] be a seizure. Should the tie him down? Everyone else was just staring and he doubted they were thinking about the danger that presented.

Again, though, the time was passed before he acted, and Dallas stopped. And opened his eyes.

And sat up.

He fucking sat up.

Sweat trickled down Ddraig's skin and his hair stood up like a cat's as Dallas's mother embraced her son and several of the others spoke to him. Ddraig stood there, visibly shaking. What should he do? He was relieved that he had woken up; he wasn't sure what [i]he[/i] would make of it, though, or his mother. Or anyone else, for that matter. What would he even say? He opened his mouth, only to swallow; it was painfully dry. He stood there, dumb and mute for a moment. A quiet squeak croaked out of his mouth as he raised his palm vertically in a tiny gesture.

"Hey."

God, what a stupid thing to say.