"N-no, Izzy fine. Not Izzy's blood...Oh! Umm, sorry Cor, Izzy no looking for your stuff. Stupe over there. Jus' tossed shit e'erywhere, t'nk sum stuff gots jumbled...best you look youself; af'er all, Cor gonna know Cor's stuff."
Cor frowned when Izzy stepped away. He would have liked to make sure she hadn't hurt herself -was possible she could simply not have noticed the pain yet- but he nodded. "Okay. If it starts hurting, let me know, okay? And..." he trailed off, how many times had he apologized now? It was a stinging realization, he was supposed to be responsible, grown up, yet she seemed to be doing better on her own, without his idiotic ideas and ideals. Cor started walking back to the crates, hopefully all his stuff was fine. If not... well, he wasn't going to get into an argument over it, but he was going to be pretty angry.
A thought stuck in the back of his head re-surfaced.
It's a miracle we're alive. We were almost eaten by maniacs.
Everyone were maniacs, but the cannibal sort was especially nasty. He and his parents had once tended to one, though they hadn't realized that before the guy threw up heaps of blood without any signs of internal bleeding. Cor was so naive at the time, about 10 years old, that his parents had to explain why a man with no real injuries apart from a slight head one, could be throwing up blood. He remembered the feeling of confusion and then, suddenly, realization. Then a mix of disgust and curiosity.
Nasty people.
At least they were alive. At least it seemed like it would be okay, though he wondered if Izzy blamed him. Perhaps he should talk to her, though as he saw her being approached by the other woman there, he quickly gathered his stuff.
She probably won't hurt her. That is... both. Neither of them. But still.
Cor checked over the crates another time, as well as the surroundings, then entered the wag. Taking a seat -not particularly comfortable- further back, he flashed a careful smile towards Izzy.
I hope we'll get away soon.
Then he started putting his bag and other items next to him. When he got to the lighter, he instead started flicking it, taking a bit of relief in watching the tiny flame going back and forth on top of it, burning with a calmness he found solace in.
Cor frowned when Izzy stepped away. He would have liked to make sure she hadn't hurt herself -was possible she could simply not have noticed the pain yet- but he nodded. "Okay. If it starts hurting, let me know, okay? And..." he trailed off, how many times had he apologized now? It was a stinging realization, he was supposed to be responsible, grown up, yet she seemed to be doing better on her own, without his idiotic ideas and ideals. Cor started walking back to the crates, hopefully all his stuff was fine. If not... well, he wasn't going to get into an argument over it, but he was going to be pretty angry.
A thought stuck in the back of his head re-surfaced.
It's a miracle we're alive. We were almost eaten by maniacs.
Everyone were maniacs, but the cannibal sort was especially nasty. He and his parents had once tended to one, though they hadn't realized that before the guy threw up heaps of blood without any signs of internal bleeding. Cor was so naive at the time, about 10 years old, that his parents had to explain why a man with no real injuries apart from a slight head one, could be throwing up blood. He remembered the feeling of confusion and then, suddenly, realization. Then a mix of disgust and curiosity.
Nasty people.
At least they were alive. At least it seemed like it would be okay, though he wondered if Izzy blamed him. Perhaps he should talk to her, though as he saw her being approached by the other woman there, he quickly gathered his stuff.
She probably won't hurt her. That is... both. Neither of them. But still.
Cor checked over the crates another time, as well as the surroundings, then entered the wag. Taking a seat -not particularly comfortable- further back, he flashed a careful smile towards Izzy.
I hope we'll get away soon.
Then he started putting his bag and other items next to him. When he got to the lighter, he instead started flicking it, taking a bit of relief in watching the tiny flame going back and forth on top of it, burning with a calmness he found solace in.