[Difficult or not, the brand is getting checked now for Light's own good, even if there's a wrenching feeling in Aerith's gut of dread for what she might see. She struggles in moving Lightning over, opens the shirt...
...That feeling in her gut turns to ice. How could it have progressed like that? It's too fast--like that, with the toll the draft would take...
She won't make it.
Her right hand covers her mouth, stifling a sob, and then another awful thought comes: I made the brand do that. Tears drip on top of shaking knuckles before they rise up and scrub at her eyes. No, no. Lightning needs help now, she can't fall to pieces. She focuses on the filial healing magic, but it comes only weakly, her concentration faltering. She's too focused on the brand, horrified by the prospect that it might change any further.]
[Action]
...That feeling in her gut turns to ice. How could it have progressed like that? It's too fast--like that, with the toll the draft would take...
She won't make it.
Her right hand covers her mouth, stifling a sob, and then another awful thought comes: I made the brand do that. Tears drip on top of shaking knuckles before they rise up and scrub at her eyes. No, no. Lightning needs help now, she can't fall to pieces. She focuses on the filial healing magic, but it comes only weakly, her concentration faltering. She's too focused on the brand, horrified by the prospect that it might change any further.]