[Arden clings to him like a frightened child woken from a nightmare and Zenyatta's heart aches with it- with his fear, with the thought of how long he might have been dreaming. Listening, silent, he draws one hand slowly over the boy's hair, careful to avoid snagging it in one of dozens of delicate joints and hinges as he goes.
He lets the silence sit for a moment before he speaks; his voice is scarcely more than a murmur, meant for Arden's ears only.]
You may fail one hundred times, and you will still be my student, and my friend. Now- [and he steps back by a forearm's length, one hand on his shoulder, the other still on the side of Arden's head] - tell me what happened.
no subject
He lets the silence sit for a moment before he speaks; his voice is scarcely more than a murmur, meant for Arden's ears only.]
You may fail one hundred times, and you will still be my student, and my friend. Now- [and he steps back by a forearm's length, one hand on his shoulder, the other still on the side of Arden's head] - tell me what happened.