Moving days were some of the few to catch Ric in public spaces wearing anything less than a three-piece suit. As if jeans and cheap polyester t-shirts weren't uncomfortable enough, becoming sweat-slick from the exertion of hauling boxes made them even more so. While going off in search of much-needed liquid refreshment, he could feel two beads of perspiration engaged in a race down his back; the winner's prize being his utmost agitation. The promise of later returning to his trailer (and more importantly, that of a refreshing shower) hung motivationally before him like the proverbial carrot on a stick.
Spying the collapse of a person from afar was alarming, to say the least. Ric would peg the temperature as being somewhere in the high seventies, low eighties. Not enough to induce heat exhaustion by his account, but individuals possessed different sensitivities. It might have been to the benefit of them both to still grab a bottle of water before rushing over, but a panicked mind wasn't one that made the best possible decisions. Least of all by the time he got close enough to recognize the figure curled into a ball seemingly trying to remove the mask that was their own face.
"Issac! Good heavens, what's the matter?" he hissed through grit teeth. Kneeling down and reaching out, he attempted plucking the younger man's fingers away from the back of his head. "Let's get you away from here. I'll carry you if you're unable to stand." The way Ric said it sounded like a parental threat more than it was a heroic offer. Whether kicking and screaming, cradled bridal style or slung over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes, he'd be dragging Issac away from prying eyes unless he possessed the mental wherewithal to do the walking for himself.