[Koltira does not loosen his grip. In fact, he grabs for Papyrus's hand, aiming to snatch him by the wrist, to hold him firmly in place. His other hand makes a fist against Papyrus's breastplate. He doesn't draw back for a punch; rather, he just starts to exert force against the metal, pressing against it, as though seeing if it will buckle or crack.
If he gets hold of Papyrus, he'll lock his thumb and pointer finger around the skeletal wrist bones.]
Be still.
[Nothing Papyrus has said seems to have gotten through. In truth, his voice is still so much anxious noise in Koltira's ears; he's not grasping the words in the least. The only thing he's responding to--capable of responding to--is the tremble in Papyrus's tone. The wavering, the fear. His white pupils, visible like a scar against the ice blue of his eyes, dilate.]
no subject
If he gets hold of Papyrus, he'll lock his thumb and pointer finger around the skeletal wrist bones.]
Be still.
[Nothing Papyrus has said seems to have gotten through. In truth, his voice is still so much anxious noise in Koltira's ears; he's not grasping the words in the least. The only thing he's responding to--capable of responding to--is the tremble in Papyrus's tone. The wavering, the fear. His white pupils, visible like a scar against the ice blue of his eyes, dilate.]