Sollux looks between them: at the blood on Feferi's mouth, at the bite at Dave's hand. He swallows thickly. He's not weak around blood on its own, but the circumstances, the not knowing of how far things might have gone if he didn't stop them, that revives the sick feeling in his stomach. It's probably for the better that he has nothing to empty it of now.

"He'th an inthufferable prick," he says, feeling less solid now that he's actually here, "but he'th the kind of idiot who tried to argue we're going to be betht friendth, and offered to teach me to uthe a thword, and showed me where to find the thermal hull back on our floor."

His gaze slips between them again. "I don't think--" It settles on Dave, and he bites his lip. He hopes. "He'th probably not going to kill me unlethh thomething fortheth it."