[ It's probably one of the worst times to call, not that he has the right to complain about help-- but Piers is all sorts of scrambled, pulled apart form the inside and when he hears a voice in his head it actually makes him groan. The low, guttural sound is cut off as soon as he realizes he's making it, and he has to straighten himself up as if that will fix his tone. ]
Thanks I-- [ He sucks in a breath, brows furrowing. ] Just thanks.
[ The question, however, earns Thane a dry sort of chuckle. ] Kid's toy, for drawing, pretty uh... simple thing. Filled with shaved aluminum.
[The sound he hears in response to his message leaves concern twisting inside him-- and, perhaps, a twinge of something else. Fortunately for himself, Thane still has not taken to addressing anyone on the network beyond text. Tying his appearance to his name is something he's trying to avoid, and his voice would be entirely too obvious if someone were ever to meet him.]
A child using aluminium to draw? That's not exactly something I would have pictured. It doesn't sound very safe at all, although I understand now your request for one.
It's.. ah better than it sounds. [ Is all he can offer in explanation. Perhaps he could tell more at another time, but with the way his body was taunting him he wasn't able to think of a better answer for him. His reply is still voice, if only because he didn't have the capacity to text at the moment. ]
Oh, I'm just peachy. [ A slow, pitiful sigh, that he tries to muffle. ] You know-- just another day in Ariel. [ He tries to laugh but it sends a pulse of pain through his ribs and rips another groan from him. ]
[It's difficult to offer comfort over written word--so to speak--and he wishes he could do more. But beyond the packages, Thane has little else to offer through this particular medium of his.]
Another day that's taken a rather harsh turn. Please take care of yourself, Nivans.