[Whatever for, Jill almost asks, but her words are stayed by the simple logic of their circumstances. Just as the Phoenix's heat had overtaken the air itself, so too has Shiva's chill asserted its dominance. Joshua knows what he'd almost done; now he understands what she'd had to do in order to stop him.

Her grip on him tightens as much as she feels comfortable with, knowing the limitations of his strength and the way the curse has eaten away at his own flesh. One hand moves to cradle the back of his neck, her fingers gentle in his hair, gracing him with the soft touch of a loving sister. Like this, she wishes she could absorb his pain, make it her own, endure it on his behalf, because she knows there aren't really any words to make it go away.

Still, she tries anyway. Words are the only other thing she has.]

No, Joshua, don't apologise. There's naught to forgive.

[Which may seem falsely soothing, a little white lie cast between them to obfuscate the truth. When she tries to picture herself in his position, she wonders if her own mind would have roiled at the thought, too overwhelmed by a misplaced sense of self-flagellating disgust to grasp onto kinder truths.

Even so, she means it wholly. There's not a single part of her that blames Joshua for what happened. He could be the most strong-willed person in the whole of the world and still lack the power to overcome his dreams. Such is simply the way things are.]

Focus on yourself for now, all right? I'm here, we're both safe, and all else can wait.