It's almost as if Garrot can't consciously focus on anything other than stubbornly pushing forward. And Gyre is, of course, a shorter and very attractive elf. Telling him to breathe. Holding him close. It's a very intimately familiar sensation, and almost immediately, almost reflexively...

He starts to breathe. A deep breath in, a deep breath out. It's a trained motion, a tool he hasn't been using as much as he should. That much is obvious. But his arms wrap tighter around his friend, and there's another whine... this one sounding more... helpless.

"Yeah... after." And then the squeezing continues.