Sabev saw her friend fumble, a thing that she had never imagined was within Ilyien's physical abilities. He'd always been so sure of himself, at least when it came to his own body. A warrior through and through.
"Ranulf..." Her voice quieted, and she stepped forward to lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
It disturbed her to see him like this, and all of the irritation fled from her mind quickly. She had only concern now. Had she said something terribly wrong? Had she offended him in some way? It didn't quite feel like that. Anger was a thing she knew from him, so was irritation, and protectiveness. This? This was strange.