Jingyi lowers his head again, bringing Tidus back to the ground with more tender grace than might have been evident in him picking his friend up in the first place. (Don't doubt it'd taken deft tenderness at minimum, his teeth are predator's teeth, and his strength needs moderating, but he's also the one picking people up by mouth and not shoving them airborne using air or telekinetic shields he has imperfect control over.)

His tail keeps the refugee-gone-wild pinned in place, though the strings of saliva connecting Tidus to his mouth after he brings his jaws away is unfortunate, to say the least. As is Jingyi's lip-curling scrape of his tongue against his teeth, his eyes locked on the refugee and ears akimbo, tracking sounds around them. For all the world looking like a dog who's just licked peanut butter, only to learn that stuff sticks so incredibly, it's supremely difficult to swallow.

"Oh, you're all in my mouth," he says, not intending to be heard, but he is mumbling right by Tidus, and his head is two metres tall.