[Astarion does as he's bid; folds himself by palatable degrees forward into that anxious hold, smoothing a reassuring thumb along the borders of Fenris' own. Anchoring it a moment later— fingerprint to skin.

And in silent response: I'll fetch you more when you're ready.]

Not always. [Includes a cast-off stare towards the direction that they'd trod off in.] Something normally sets her off when she turns particularly nasty, and I can't say tonight is a shock in that regard, considering what day it is.

[The next pause leaves ample room, though he doesn't dare ask again if Fenris is all right.]