There's a thick, sore lump forming in his throat, a prickle at his eyes, and it's hard to listen for all no real hearing is involved. She's talking about having him go so she can die alone here, and how is he supposed to accept that? But it's when she goes and tells him it's not his fault that tears finally slip past the edge of his eyelid.

"Yes it is," he insists with stubborn petulance. "I got stabbed like three times by this friend of mine and walked them all off, and I didn't stop to think maybe a tail from a monster is different than a knife and means something more to a human who's already weak from the arena."

It feels like an insult to put it that way, but the bluntness carries his meaning best. He didn't notice; he didn't consider.

"Two people already died because of me, Nill, and now you..." He rubs a knuckle at his eyes, leaving her hand to just the one again. "You can't make me leave. I don't care that it's dangerous. I don't, I'm not going to."