Only thought. One moment, you had been beside me, strong and intact and only yourself. The next, you had given too much of your attention to a strong thought not your own. As one may swiftly unravel a large piece of kniting simply by drawing one loose thread out of it, so to you began to come undone. Catching up the thread and rolling it up does not restore the garment. Yet as I plunged through the maelstrom of random thoughts, I reached for you, snatching at the threads of you, gathering and grasping them even as I sought frantically for their ever diminishing heart and source. I had been in far stronger Skill currents than the ones I navigated now, and I held myself intact. But your experience was far more limited than mine. You were being torn apart, shredding rapidly in the clawing flow of sentience. To call you back, I would have to risk myself, but as the fault was mine, it seemed only fair. What I felt in return from you was like a questioning echo as if you could barely recall who you had been but moments before. I netted you out of the tangled flux, sieving the threads of you and keeping them whilst letting the others flow through my perception of you. The tapping of my thought was a heartbeat for you, and a confirmation. Then for a time I held you, steadying you,and finally felt you come back to yourself. Swiftly you gathered to your center threads that I had not perceived as being part of you. I was a stillness around you, helping to hold the thoughts of the world at bay while you re-formed yourself.
