"I feel it, too," Arha said, letting her fingers curl against his arm. "It is frustrating to feel and not interpret, to be aware and unknowing when all you wish to do is understand." Her thumb brushed out soothingly, absently. For no reason she could understand, she felt a surge build, the kind that came when she was healing. It was prickly, buzzing like the thing she sensed coming from him. She could almost touch it, now, the effect stronger with touch.

Arha could sense frustration and knew it was not her own. The prickling that shot up her arms smoothed and became a flow, soft, reassuring as it flowed through her fingers. Calming, easing, kneading the emotional knots away like her fingers would have done to muscle. She was meant to help.

This was the way of things.