[relief shudders through him when the vibration stops; it was apparently affecting him more than he'd realised.]

I suppose it's better that way, since we won't be able to take these with us.

[pushing himself upward, Olivine climbs off of the bed, steps delicate but determined. He's fine, really.

And it takes him a lot less time to pick something for Sylvain. It's similar to the collar he'd picked—pretty, black coated, with just a couple of gold adornments. As he steps back to Sylvain, he hums softly.]

Would you like me to help put it on you, too? [a laugh.] Not that it's difficult, mind.