If it's a pound of his own flesh that Summoner needs to rend for him just to distract himself from his own pain, Darkleer would let it happen. There is nothing more he can do in this situation, no way to take away Summoner's pain or speed the process up in a way that wouldn't just make matters worse. If it's physical pain, he can take it. This was a body made for punishment, if nothing else. As if in preparation for claws digging into his skin, or teeth drawing blood, or anything, anything at all, Darkleer breathes in deep and tries to force his body to relax. He'll make it worse if he tenses up.

But before any violence can happen to himself, Summoner suddenly lets out that shriek. Even as he grips him tightly, Darkleer is pressing closer and cups his free hand around Summoner's face. He's heard worse, he's seen bloodier, and he knows he can handle this. So he keeps his calm and presses his lips to Summoner's temple.

"Just hold on. Hold on. It will be over soon."