The earth rattling under their feet does not get missed. The half-dragon winces, keeping steady as best he could until it passes, wings settling close to his back once the tremors fade. He nods at his companion; they ought to help out as best they can. And with his shape already changed, Esteban doesn't need to hold back.
He brightens a little more than really appropriate. Dangers surround them, the echoes of something singing people to madness still whisper-soft into their ears, and here Esteban is, relieved that he doesn't-- that he can help, properly help. It quirks his lips up in a grin, both in careless relief, and an attempt to cheer Tidus on. They'll need all the strength they can muster.
"Gotcha. Don't get lost, Sunshine~" He can try his best at least to offer the support Tidus had given him, back before he'd even any knowledge of the battles ahead. There is still a knot at his throat, but he swallows it back, braces his thoughts, and starts running.
His strides are longer, balancing on the ball of his feet even just at a jog. Heels no longer touch the ground, but he paces himself to stay close to the blond, a careful eye glancing back to make sure he's keeping up, and remains steady. Just in case.
His smile fades softly; joyfulness eclipsed by a harder edge. Determination thins the edges of his mouth, but he curves them up for his friend whenever he checks on him.
He pounces into the next open area with narrowed eyes, darting with quick skips to the nearest refugee he spots. It still feels wrong to manhandle these innocents, but thinking is a luxury; they don't have the time to be delicate.
His movements have to be swift-- quicker than their voices; Esteban does not have the advantage of stealth. Grappling is easier, strength lent to him by his monstrous form, and height means their struggles are relatively pointless. He drags them quick as he can back, wings curled protectively over the refugee's form as he backtracks towards Tidus.
Oof, action scenes are hard.
He brightens a little more than really appropriate. Dangers surround them, the echoes of something singing people to madness still whisper-soft into their ears, and here Esteban is, relieved that he doesn't-- that he can help, properly help. It quirks his lips up in a grin, both in careless relief, and an attempt to cheer Tidus on. They'll need all the strength they can muster.
"Gotcha. Don't get lost, Sunshine~" He can try his best at least to offer the support Tidus had given him, back before he'd even any knowledge of the battles ahead. There is still a knot at his throat, but he swallows it back, braces his thoughts, and starts running.
His strides are longer, balancing on the ball of his feet even just at a jog. Heels no longer touch the ground, but he paces himself to stay close to the blond, a careful eye glancing back to make sure he's keeping up, and remains steady. Just in case.
His smile fades softly; joyfulness eclipsed by a harder edge. Determination thins the edges of his mouth, but he curves them up for his friend whenever he checks on him.
He pounces into the next open area with narrowed eyes, darting with quick skips to the nearest refugee he spots. It still feels wrong to manhandle these innocents, but thinking is a luxury; they don't have the time to be delicate.
His movements have to be swift-- quicker than their voices; Esteban does not have the advantage of stealth. Grappling is easier, strength lent to him by his monstrous form, and height means their struggles are relatively pointless. He drags them quick as he can back, wings curled protectively over the refugee's form as he backtracks towards Tidus.