Tseng barely remembered anything of the trip down to Vanaheim where the President had ordered them to report to, nor of what he had been doing for the past day or two; the only thing on his mind was Rufus, and whether or not he was safe. He knew he didn't have to worry about the rest of the Turks, they were fully capable of taking care of themselves.
As the train pulled into the station, Tseng was already waiting impatiently at the carriage door. A quick look out the window before they stopped completely revealed no sign of the President within the station, and neither did a slightly more thorough check of the place. The Turk stepped outside, catching sight of a familiar figure resting on a bench not too far away from the entrance, a hand pressed against his chest.
Tseng made his way over, brow furrowing in concern as he approached the blond; only now did he notice just how thin the man had become ever since the damned disease had hit-
-and also the lack of the wheelchair.
The Wutaian knew that in his weakened state, even the least strenuous things like simple walking could prove extremely tiring for the President. It wouldn't do for him to be without the wheelchair at all, especially not if they were going to be running around wildly in this place.
He came to a stop next to Rufus, softly clearing his throat as he addressed the President in a voice a tad rusty from disuse. "Apologies for the delay, sir. Are you alright?"
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As the train pulled into the station, Tseng was already waiting impatiently at the carriage door. A quick look out the window before they stopped completely revealed no sign of the President within the station, and neither did a slightly more thorough check of the place. The Turk stepped outside, catching sight of a familiar figure resting on a bench not too far away from the entrance, a hand pressed against his chest.
Tseng made his way over, brow furrowing in concern as he approached the blond; only now did he notice just how thin the man had become ever since the damned disease had hit-
-and also the lack of the wheelchair.
The Wutaian knew that in his weakened state, even the least strenuous things like simple walking could prove extremely tiring for the President. It wouldn't do for him to be without the wheelchair at all, especially not if they were going to be running around wildly in this place.
He came to a stop next to Rufus, softly clearing his throat as he addressed the President in a voice a tad rusty from disuse. "Apologies for the delay, sir. Are you alright?"