"--Yeah! Yeah I'm fine," Dustin responds, perhaps a little too quickly and urgently. Jerked out of his daze from watching Felspring appear, it seems; he'll have to reassess his assumptions about Felwinter and the little twitchy Ghost in his helmet after all. "Wait. I can breathe, we don't need to leave yet. I just, ah..."

The boy's voice leaves him as he struggles for a way to phrase the problem in a way that won't be humiliating. And fails. There's no avoiding it. Felwinter might even be putting the pieces together already, since the otherwise very fidgety and touch-averse Dustin hasn't budged in response to the warlord's hands on his arms. Instead there's only a tensing of his muscles, like he's trying to pull away but can't.

Which is exactly the issue. "I...I think I'm stuck," he mumbles lamely. "Your cloak's like fucking flypaper."