If it weren’t for the fact that his right hand was gripping his staff while his left hand was at too awkward an angle for it from Lioriley clinging to his arm, Rezo might very well have clung right back.

“I can make it,” he says, trying to hide the note of panic in his voice at the thought of Lioriley arranging someone to carry him back to his cabin. If Lioriley is observant, and chooses to look up, she may notice the way the tips of his ears turn pink. “It was just a touch of dizziness. We’ll move slowly, in case it happens again.”

While his own well-being doesn’t concern Rezo enough not to press himself, the embarrassing fact he’s had at least two separate people help him stay upright over the course of the afternoon and evening may prove an effective future deterrent against pushing his limits.