If he had breath it would catch; if he had a chest it would ache. No one ever wanted to see the Ninefox Crowned with Eyes, the sign he personally transmuted into a harbinger of insanity and disaster. Even the anchors who weren't maneuvered as blatantly as Cheris was, who were fascinated or ambitious enough or both to be glad of his assistance were still wary of him.

Talking to him was always a risk, not a comfort.

"I'm here," he says, the shadow leaping into shape at Fives' feet, amber eyes wide and bright. His throatless voice sounds a little hoarse. "I'm with you, I promise."