[Yuan gives the frustration a little time, to see if Kratos will work through it, but when sparks crackle out of their mana, Yuan reaches up and back, taps his knuckles on the top of Kratos's head. What did I say about pushing yourself.]

[It has the same rasp as his tone might when voiced aloud, the faintest hint of exasperation. Too fond to be serious.]

[We have all night. Yuan's let a little of his own pattern slip, in observing Kratos's mana, and now he pulls it back into motion, a steady beat of circulation around him. This, too, brushes Kratos where they lean against each other.]

[With his free hand, Yuan shifts some of the gently singed pillows, flipping the ones that aren't directly being sat on over.]

[In any case, you're already making progress.]