[Admittedly, Clive is a little confused at Sleipnir’s apparent happiness at being told he speaks in a poetic nature and the smile is so different from the ones he has seen before, but you know what? Why not. It’s a weird place, he’s a weird guy, and Clive is drunk. Might as well just roll with it.]

You’re welcome. Do you… not get complimented often?

[He supposes that would depend on how frequently Sleipnir spent away from Barnabas. Or interacted with people. Clive really knew nothing about the person across from him and for some reason that bothered him.]

You make a very good point. He doesn’t really seem like a people person. Probably a little too intense for most.

[Clive says it lightheartedly before taking another sip of his wine. He debates finishing his second glass as he watches the other grip at his chest. The glass is immediately on the table, completely discarded. Without thinking, Clive leans forward and holds on to Sleipnir’s shoulders. He searches the other man’s face before giving him a once over to check for any physical damage.]

Are you okay?

[Clive shakes his head, dismissing the comment. That isn’t important right now. Sure, he isn’t literally in the middle of trying to find a way to kill a god, but that didn’t mean he was free. Not with the man in front of him hurting.]

Stay with me. Breathe. In and out, nice and slow.