He hadn't run into Selen at all during the chaos that had engulfed Esdham over those three days but for sure, perhaps moreso than he was required to, Sephiroth had very much seen it as an extension of his duty to do his utmost to defend the stronghold and the small citizenry beyond. Throwing himself headlong into the Coliseum, and pushing his creeping lethargy to the back of his mind as he'd launched himself against the X-ATM105 alongside many other Heroes of Light. When they had begun their retreat, of course he'd had to chase them out; his tactical mind had been pushed into overdrive - there had to be more to it.
He might well be starting to regret that call right about now.
Sephiroth flicked a look over to the doorway and back, from his book, before folding the top corner of a page down and closing it. All one-handed as a consequence of his main hand being strapped close in a sling still. He didn't quite pull a face, but the impression was he was exactly the opposite from Selen's cheerfulness; the fact that it was obvious it was laced with concern just ate at him more. He lowered his somewhat less-vivid gaze from Selen's face into the can she had put down on the shelf in front of him.
"Nothing. Specifically." Though he tried to sound as dismissive as possible the dry sound to his voice hadn't yet quite gone away. Dehydration had been one of the more pressing of issues when he had been recovered and he wasn't quite over it yet.
He looked rough though, to put it mildly. Large heavy plaster cast aside, the bruises that covered his bare arms could almost be traced as the outline of his armor plates if looked at from a certain angle, along with a couple of larger dressings which indicated where it had failed him and an edge had cleaved into skin - the wounds now appropriately cleaned and stitched as needed. He wore a loose, plain grey vest but it did nothing to cover the suggestion that such blemishes might be all over him.
Not to mention the telltale signs that the near starved state he'd been found in -a certain gaunt look to his face- was still very much being recovered from. Not that he wasn't pale in the first place.
Sephiroth shifted on the bed a little as if to sit up straighter in Selen's presence. To attempt to go someway in projecting that it wasn't all that bad. He grunted uncomfortably as just that slight movement disturbed his elevated left leg.
no subject
He might well be starting to regret that call right about now.
Sephiroth flicked a look over to the doorway and back, from his book, before folding the top corner of a page down and closing it. All one-handed as a consequence of his main hand being strapped close in a sling still. He didn't quite pull a face, but the impression was he was exactly the opposite from Selen's cheerfulness; the fact that it was obvious it was laced with concern just ate at him more. He lowered his somewhat less-vivid gaze from Selen's face into the can she had put down on the shelf in front of him.
"Nothing. Specifically." Though he tried to sound as dismissive as possible the dry sound to his voice hadn't yet quite gone away. Dehydration had been one of the more pressing of issues when he had been recovered and he wasn't quite over it yet.
He looked rough though, to put it mildly. Large heavy plaster cast aside, the bruises that covered his bare arms could almost be traced as the outline of his armor plates if looked at from a certain angle, along with a couple of larger dressings which indicated where it had failed him and an edge had cleaved into skin - the wounds now appropriately cleaned and stitched as needed. He wore a loose, plain grey vest but it did nothing to cover the suggestion that such blemishes might be all over him.
Not to mention the telltale signs that the near starved state he'd been found in -a certain gaunt look to his face- was still very much being recovered from. Not that he wasn't pale in the first place.
Sephiroth shifted on the bed a little as if to sit up straighter in Selen's presence. To attempt to go someway in projecting that it wasn't all that bad. He grunted uncomfortably as just that slight movement disturbed his elevated left leg.