Tez was watching him from the couch, laying on her stomach before she sat up when he moved. "Don't.."
He took it, drinking thirstily. “I was walking towards the town,” he recalled slowly. “And humans came out of the shadows. They were too fast. They called me dirty.”
He didn’t seem to notice at first, clearly lost in his own thoughts. He looked up after a moment and noticed her outstretched hand and moved to take it before pausing. “Tez, am I filthy?” he asked quietly, his brow furrowing. His tone was surprisingly plaintive and he didn’t meet her gaze. The question felt as if it came from somewhere deep inside himself, almost as if it were asked by an 8-year old elf desperate to know whether his place in the world mattered.
She looked at him with a surprised expression. "..What? Rowan, no.. No, of course not." She leaned forward, taking both his hands. "You're not filthy. Don't.. Don't ever think you are, okay? Don't believe their words, because then they have control of you. Don't let them have control. You're in control. Not them."
He was quiet before he nodded, still not meeting her gaze. “Okay, Tez. Thanks. I’m going to go to bed now.” His voice sounded weirdly robotic, but he moved to stand up, groaning as his injuries complained.
He tensed when she helped him and shook his head. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” he said gruffly. “It’s alright.”
