[Exhaustion. Confusion. Concern, edged with a weary exasperation they recognize even if they've only heard it ringing his tone, and not singing a spiraling, eddying swirl in his thoughts. It could conceivably belong to anyone - certainly, enough people here seem to be walking advertisements in regards to the dangers of sleep debt - but in the end, is there any question, who these thoughts belong to?]
[They stop abruptly, their gaze locked at a point just to the left of him, trying and failing to suppress the awareness for the weariness that seeds every bone of his being.]
[A bit belatedly, they realize that he can probably see them staring into empty space as well.]
no subject
[They stop abruptly, their gaze locked at a point just to the left of him, trying and failing to suppress the awareness for the weariness that seeds every bone of his being.]
[A bit belatedly, they realize that he can probably see them staring into empty space as well.]
[They ought to rectify that.]
...sir.