More miniscule shifting in his arms, and he lets the little troll practically crawl into his lap. He is now the filling of a very strange cuddle sandwich: the light weight of Sonica curled up against his chest and Dualscar's large hand steadying his back. It's strange and comforting as it is almost alarming. Psiioniic takes a deep breath and nudges one of his horns against hers as he listens to her. Her voice is raspy and hoarse, shaking with every syllable, and it takes him a few moments to piece it together.

"Thee thayth her guardian wath going to be culled but thee thinksth it might have ethcaped..." Idly, some of the webs of psionic energy begin to encircle and entwine around Dualscar's wrist.