[ He watches her briefly, the pained way she attempts to stretch out the exertion her body must be feeling. 9S debates suggesting she sit down, and just as quickly dismisses the idea; a waste of breath, surely. (A part of him wonders how long she plans on keeping this up, as well.)

Instead, he makes a casual shift on his own feet—which feel perfectly fine, thank you, not that he wears out anywhere near as easily as an organic body does—folding both arms over his chest. ]

Fine, fine... I don't know how you feel about them, but I still don't think it's my business to interfere with anyway.