Which works well, at least until the problem is eventually solved. Thank goodness, it doesn't feel everlasting for that either, as he imagines their energy could've depleted rather quickly if they'd kept it up too much longer. Surely they would have run out of refugees before then, right? (...right? Sizhui's unsure—) Fortunately, he needn't consider once those equalizers are restored, the individuals who had been affected coming to, groggy and in a muddle.

He's mid-handling someone when it happens, carefully steadying them on their feet while they gather their bearings instead of incapacitating them. Following Jingyi's sigh, Sizhui cranes his neck in that direction, somewhat weary-sounding, “I . . . think so?” A brief, hesitant glance back toward the person he's helping who's starting to regain composure, then he withdraws. Immediately, he wants to ask each and every refugee just what in the world had happened, but it seems more proper to let them finish recovering first.

So, this seems the perfect moment to slide closer to Jingyi, slump against his dragon friend's leg and exhale a huff of his own. “Let's hope it is or else this will prove to be a long, exhausting day.”