[Still in a haze, Zaheer barely moves at first, though there's a light, half-hearted shove at their chest as he's carried. He's still not wholly accepting of being Henry's, and being taken care of because of it. He could clean himself up... but, of course, he realizes he can barely move. The whisper of Master at the back of his mind is far more stable now, begrudgingly accepted now due to their intelligence and wit.
At least, even with his wings, Zaheer is surprisingly easy and light to carry.]
Fine. [Is all he can really get out, his eyelids starting to flutter, threatening sleep.]
no subject
At least, even with his wings, Zaheer is surprisingly easy and light to carry.]
Fine. [Is all he can really get out, his eyelids starting to flutter, threatening sleep.]