Shoulder roll. Tense..

More or less. Her?

Good. Good.

(However; things were not, in fact, fine.)

Cue a side-glance from the helmet. “..Aren’t you a little young to be playing therapist?” He scoffed, adjusting his shoulder plate.

“And how old is that? Fifteen? Seventeen?” He rolled his eyes behind the casque, reluctantly facing her now. She had Bo’s approval but..

He stared for a moment, then reluctantly sighed. “Yeah, you’re telling me.” Gloved hands slowly pried his helmet free.

“So then you badgered me for nothing.” He corrected, shifting to face her. “Twenty years old. Recently. Got a name, Seventeen?”

“I’m not the most positively charged person. Better to expect the worst and be pleasantly surprised. “Soth.”

“Likewise, I suppose.” He shrugged, dusting his hands off. “Can’t say I expected to see you around here.”

“Didn’t think you’d still be lingering about, is all.” He shrugged, rubbing his neck.

Oh. Well, that’s kind of sad. “..Sorry to hear that.” He whispered, leaning his elbows on his knees as he glanced her over.

“..I guess it was at least on your terms.” S i g h. “Not much of a great conversationalist. Sorry.”

“More of a caf person, myself.” He mumbled, running his fingers through his hair. “Why?”

“Couldn’t hurt, I guess.” With a heavy sigh, he stood and offered his hand.

“Right behind you.” He nodded and collected his helmet.

Quietly staring.

Rolls shoulders.

Lands on the TL.