[What is he doing? She's quiet for a moment until she feels that little bit of attachment on her forearm. It's what pulls her from her thoughts to finally look at him, a soft huff of breath escaping through mostly grit teeth. She hates being pitied, she really does and this is exactly what it feels like.
But she can't hate him for... trying? Trying is the word.
She's using her free arm to gently pat his head with a slightly forced smile.]
It's not your fault that shit has played out the way it has. If I hadn't had my damn familiar pop up then I wouldn't even have this much and be stuck in a jail cell in shithole Florida. So I guess I can't... complain too much, y'know?
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But she can't hate him for... trying? Trying is the word.
She's using her free arm to gently pat his head with a slightly forced smile.]
It's not your fault that shit has played out the way it has. If I hadn't had my damn familiar pop up then I wouldn't even have this much and be stuck in a jail cell in shithole Florida. So I guess I can't... complain too much, y'know?