At least Varos could sense the frustration wasn't aimed at him. Being muted wasn’t the other's fault. It was his owner's. At the new question, the elf gently pulled one hand, then the other, up to his shoulders to shrug them. Rough cloth of his shirt, slightly softer yet ragged fabric for his scarf. A radiant warmth from his body hidden underneath.

He didn't know how many people.

Lerith let Varo's hands go, only chasing after one to hold and spell against once more. [Name Lerith. Elf. You from?]