[ listen, this is how they operate? felix goes out and challenges people to fights and throws turnips at bards, and sylvain woos chickens while attempting to read the entire mondstadt library. it's just how they work and it's been fine so far, so there's no reason to change it even if felix doesn't necessarily approve of his methods. they compliment each other at the end of the day, and perhaps that's why they've been granted the visions they have. anemo amplifies the vision its paired with, extends its reach—just as he's always done on and off the battlefield. ]
I know. [ sylvain's smile softens as he lowers felix's vision, lets it settle against his sternum. it's an answer he expected, because even though it may have been easier if felix had followed down his father's path, it doesn't matter. felix always finds a way to cut through, doesn't he? dryly, ] If it's anything that you can use in battle, you'll figure it out.
[ one track mind, etc. anyway, he hasn't made as much progress with his own vision as he would like, if only because wind magic requires much more precision than fire magic does? one little mistake could turn a small gust of wind into a cutting gale, and it's something he's learned the hard way. but he does lift his free hand, flickers his fingers a little in the air—just enough to create a concentrated breeze to play with felix's ponytail like he's done countless times before, a gentle gust brushing along the back of his neck in a familiar caress. ]
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I know. [ sylvain's smile softens as he lowers felix's vision, lets it settle against his sternum. it's an answer he expected, because even though it may have been easier if felix had followed down his father's path, it doesn't matter. felix always finds a way to cut through, doesn't he? dryly, ] If it's anything that you can use in battle, you'll figure it out.
[ one track mind, etc. anyway, he hasn't made as much progress with his own vision as he would like, if only because wind magic requires much more precision than fire magic does? one little mistake could turn a small gust of wind into a cutting gale, and it's something he's learned the hard way. but he does lift his free hand, flickers his fingers a little in the air—just enough to create a concentrated breeze to play with felix's ponytail like he's done countless times before, a gentle gust brushing along the back of his neck in a familiar caress. ]