Panic is attempting to slither into his chest cavity and place its roots there, but Ilaria soothes him all the while as he runs to the golden belle in the sand. There is nothing that cannot be fixed with magic and faith. Breathe. Cera took a deep breath at her command as his emerald gazers swept over Rasta's body for any sign of physical wounds. When there were none to be found, puzzlement was imbued into his emotions as he dropped his head to her level to ghost over her in a caress of concern. Sadness and understanding dropped like a pitfall in his stomach as she turned to try and face him, and looked slightly off to the side, echoing his name in a rasp from her parched and disused throat. Cera clenched his eyes shut and calmed the tempest of emotions trying to rise at this new discovery. Sometimes...sometimes the Gods set forth stipulations on their quests that he found barbaric, but Rasta had agreed to their terms of her own will. He could not disagree with what she had accepted herself.

A physician had already patched up whatever had harmed her, and while that was a comfort to the young Diviner, he regretted having not realized she'd arrived sooner. Though he trusted his herdmates implicitly, Rasta was one of the only souls he had left to love and hold close as family. He did not place his family's life and well-being on someone's shoulders well. He would rather do it himself if it were in his power. He laughed softly, a little strained, and turned to press his face into her cheek. "I will worry for you whether I am present or absent, Rasta. You should know that about me by now." It is said fondly, for he is aware that she knows him likely better than anyone aside from Ranjiri.

Coughing shook her frame, and Ilaria had to stamp down the worry and the sudden desperate desire to get that Physician and make them heal her all over again no matter how it may exhaust them. She was the rock to his racing river, keeping him grounded, and his appreciation flowing to her received only a lovingly amused feeling in return. "Apologize? Rasta, you have nothing to apologize for, least of all to me. What do you need to explain?" Frowning, he knelt down beside her, Ilaria burrowing between the two of them as he draped his neck over her withers, should she allow it.