R suddenly has the vague inkling that this probably isn't the brightest idea he's ever had. He knows he doesn't have it in him to lie - numbed lips that struggle around words don't help - and he's afraid of telling her the truth, that he's pretty much homeless and his gainful employment is basically shuffling, murder and cannibalism. If he had working blood vessels, they'd be turning his face a bright shade of red.
He could shuffle away. Or he could hang onto her voice, the ups and downs, the way she actually seems interested in anything at all.
"You're...new...?" R tries to stall as he waffles between what to do. His gray, mottled lips purse into a line. "Not...from camp."
no subject
R suddenly has the vague inkling that this probably isn't the brightest idea he's ever had. He knows he doesn't have it in him to lie - numbed lips that struggle around words don't help - and he's afraid of telling her the truth, that he's pretty much homeless and his gainful employment is basically shuffling, murder and cannibalism. If he had working blood vessels, they'd be turning his face a bright shade of red.
He could shuffle away. Or he could hang onto her voice, the ups and downs, the way she actually seems interested in anything at all.
"You're...new...?" R tries to stall as he waffles between what to do. His gray, mottled lips purse into a line. "Not...from camp."
There.