Oh, how wrong we were to think That immortality meant never dying
”Happy to help.” He rumbles back softly, trying to make up for his earlier stumble with an unnatural warmth. Warmth that seems to escape him as they walk, as he has a chance to really digest all of this. He wonders if it’s coincidence or fate that he’d been the one to find her. Wonders if it changes anything, in the end.
The only thing he knows is that it doesn’t matter right now. Right now, she needs someplace safe to wash up, to settle into and get herself reoriented. Nate just hopes the clinic can provide that.
Though he’s in the same place, he’s clearly moved since leaving her in the room to wash up, a waxed canvas bag clutched in his hand, a handful of supplies nestled snugly within it. Just in case, he’d told himself. In case of what was a question he couldn’t answer. He knew the state Saartjie had been in, knew there more than likely wasn’t anything wrong with her, at least not that he could help. Truth was, he needs something in his hands, needs to move and try to figure out what to do.
Escape had been so close. The portal had been right there.
Nate is mid sigh when the door clicks open again, Saartjie stepping out. She seems smaller, covered in bruises instead of blood, though the doctor knows better than to assume that’s the case. There had been a reason she had been caked in gore after all, and some water didn’t exactly change that. Instead, he meets her stare head on, not blinking the entire time her eyes are on him.
He doesn’t know how to answer her question. Doesn’t know how to just keep his mouth shut either. Somehow not saying anything at all feels so much stranger than saying something, even if it’s a placeholder while he tries to find his feet. ”I have something for that.” A hand gestures towards her face. Thankfully he’d grabbed a bag with one of Vervain’s premixed poultices in it. Thankfully it gave him an excuse to look down, away, while he begins again. ”I didn’t lie about who I am. I just...” A heavy sigh drops from him. He has to bite the bullet, can’t step around it anymore, not if he wants to get on anything close to the right foot with her.
”You have a brother, don’t you? Sunjata?” Again, Nate’s hand comes up in a placation, a plea for a breath longer before she responds. His left hand, the one with scar and ring both, a fact that he seems to remember suddenly, clenching his hand and pulling it back. ”I know him. Well. We’re...” Should he be afraid? Does reason change the fact that he is? ”ons is... betrokke.”
Ons is betrokke - We’re... involved (lit. Entangled, can be understood as complicated or together)
The only thing he knows is that it doesn’t matter right now. Right now, she needs someplace safe to wash up, to settle into and get herself reoriented. Nate just hopes the clinic can provide that.
Though he’s in the same place, he’s clearly moved since leaving her in the room to wash up, a waxed canvas bag clutched in his hand, a handful of supplies nestled snugly within it. Just in case, he’d told himself. In case of what was a question he couldn’t answer. He knew the state Saartjie had been in, knew there more than likely wasn’t anything wrong with her, at least not that he could help. Truth was, he needs something in his hands, needs to move and try to figure out what to do.
Escape had been so close. The portal had been right there.
Nate is mid sigh when the door clicks open again, Saartjie stepping out. She seems smaller, covered in bruises instead of blood, though the doctor knows better than to assume that’s the case. There had been a reason she had been caked in gore after all, and some water didn’t exactly change that. Instead, he meets her stare head on, not blinking the entire time her eyes are on him.
He doesn’t know how to answer her question. Doesn’t know how to just keep his mouth shut either. Somehow not saying anything at all feels so much stranger than saying something, even if it’s a placeholder while he tries to find his feet. ”I have something for that.” A hand gestures towards her face. Thankfully he’d grabbed a bag with one of Vervain’s premixed poultices in it. Thankfully it gave him an excuse to look down, away, while he begins again. ”I didn’t lie about who I am. I just...” A heavy sigh drops from him. He has to bite the bullet, can’t step around it anymore, not if he wants to get on anything close to the right foot with her.
”You have a brother, don’t you? Sunjata?” Again, Nate’s hand comes up in a placation, a plea for a breath longer before she responds. His left hand, the one with scar and ring both, a fact that he seems to remember suddenly, clenching his hand and pulling it back. ”I know him. Well. We’re...” Should he be afraid? Does reason change the fact that he is? ”ons is... betrokke.”
Ons is betrokke - We’re... involved (lit. Entangled, can be understood as complicated or together)
NATE
