Scourge reaches out reflexively to lend his alternate support, lightly catching his arm; bright claws brush dark metal, familar, self-and-not-self at once. "Okay, got you, you'll be all right..." He's genuinely concerned for the other Scourge, and the questioning, worried brush of his aura against the other's energy fields conveys as much.
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Date: 2007-01-15 03:20 am (UTC)