[Carlisle, too, is smiling -- he's proud of what he and his new student managed to work out, combining traditional glyphcrafting with the language of hieroglyphs to create a series of unique enchantments for their charms. He's proud of Atem, who has learned much in a relatively short time, and put it all to good use. He's proud of himself for some of his own ingenuity, experimentation and failure finally paying off as the last glyph fades.
But he is also exhausted, and it shows: the glow in his eyes is painfully bright, more so than it has been in some time; his hands shake as he tries to get to his feet, and finds his legs struggle to support him. He leans against the cottage wall as he hacks into the bandage on his arm, unable to clear the blockage in his throat.]
Fine, I- I need a minute—
[He no more than croaks that out before the ink starts pouring from him, droplets becoming a stream, then more as he hacks onto his arm again. It's no wonder where all the stains on it came from.]
It's all good!
But he is also exhausted, and it shows: the glow in his eyes is painfully bright, more so than it has been in some time; his hands shake as he tries to get to his feet, and finds his legs struggle to support him. He leans against the cottage wall as he hacks into the bandage on his arm, unable to clear the blockage in his throat.]
Fine, I- I need a minute—
[He no more than croaks that out before the ink starts pouring from him, droplets becoming a stream, then more as he hacks onto his arm again. It's no wonder where all the stains on it came from.]