Clemente
It's tempting to stick his tongue out at her, but instead he just smiles and huffs into the blankets that are swaddling him. Even without the sensation of the softness on his skin or the warmth that it helps create, it's a comfort. A natural sensation, one that calls back to a type of being a newborn, cradled close and safe against a mother's chest. It's strange to be here, to trust in this woman, but the more that time goes on the more comfortable he feels. Even if it means letting down his walls a little, letting her closer and closer, where she can stick her knife so easily between his ribs. Because everyone carries knives. Everyone knows the dangers of the world, and why would they not arm themselves when faced with that darkness?It sobers him a little, but Clem can't help how he feels uncomfortable anyway when she urges that they can't stay there. He can't help but clench his hands around this new safe space, terrified of having it ripped away from him so soon. Out there, in that other house, is danger. Strangers. It's already a risk to trust Rexanna, to trust this place. And while he's not underestimating the monsters she speaks about, the tension he can read in her so clearly, Clemente is just so afraid of the inherent instability of this world. He is utterly reliant upon Rexanna, and that's a weakness he can already barely afford.
He doesn't answer for some time, staring intently down at the blankets. The idea of Wessex, the Wraith, is a powerful motif. But he is also afraid of the power she wields, of the devastation it can cause if it is ever pointed his way. "Okay," he says meekly, still unable to meet her eyes. "But we can come back here right? Together?" There's a deep vulnerability to his quiet words, one he would normally conceal but can't in this moment where he's being presented such an intense scenario. "Can I meet the Queen before LongNight? What if they dun' want me there?" What if they kicked him out for the monsters because he annoyed them? Even Rexanna couldn't go against the Queen's decree, surely.
i stopped being a kid the day
you sent me down here to die
