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Leana was watching him in a very pathetic sort of way. Nathair raised an eyebrow as she moved toward him, still with that helpful sort of innocence. Nobody had ever really hurt her yet, had they? For her to still be that naïve…

Nithel made a move to stop her.

“It’s fine, Papa.” She said gently, like a girl with a stubborn streak. Nithel didn’t trust him, but he didn’t stop her either.

“While you all decide what exactly we’re going, may I finish? Maybe my pack’s around here.” She said, arguably with such blind optimism it was almost pathetic. “There’s some antiseptic, and bandages. Needle and thread, too, if your cuts are deep enough.”

“I really doubt we’ll have time for that first of all,” Nathair remarked “and secondly, if any of your supplies are actually around here, it will very likely take more time and energy than it’s worth to relocate them. Not to mention we’ll more likely die in the attempt to retrieve them than we will in the attempt to find new supplies.”

Then he smiled a little and raised a finger at her reproachfully.

“Thirdly, you might want to start by pulling the glass out of your own foot, you’re just pushing the stuff further in.”

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