They call it Mathias, I think. [ Echoes from the kitchen, her tone clipped as she tries to gather up anything she thinks might help. Alina has a lot of questions of her own, the bowl of water sloshing slightly as she hurries back with a few kitchen towels and a knife to cut them down -- finally getting a good look at him and the clattered vest on the floor. ]
Oh, Saints.
[ Quickly, she jams the knife into one of the towels, ripping it in two and submerging one of the now smaller strips into the bowl before starting on his face-- trying to keep blood out of his eyes. ]
What happened? [ Was he injured here? Was there an unseen danger besides the fog they needed to worry about? ]
no subject
Oh, Saints.
[ Quickly, she jams the knife into one of the towels, ripping it in two and submerging one of the now smaller strips into the bowl before starting on his face-- trying to keep blood out of his eyes. ]
What happened? [ Was he injured here? Was there an unseen danger besides the fog they needed to worry about? ]