[her heart sinks as she watches his smile fade and his face change. She opens her mouth to say something reassuring, or offer some kind of advice, but... she's got no clue where to even begin. She can't help him with that.]
[so instead, she seizes on what she can help him with, and quickly turns away, moving from the couch and over to her backpack on the table.]
...Clothes. You need more clothes.
[she unzips it and starts digging through her stuff, pulling things out and piling them haphazardly on the table: a battered-looking fantasy novel, a jar of peanut butter, a box of plastic spoons, and then finally her shawl and a pair of scavenged trousers she'd been meaning to tailor to fit better.]
no subject
[so instead, she seizes on what she can help him with, and quickly turns away, moving from the couch and over to her backpack on the table.]
...Clothes. You need more clothes.
[she unzips it and starts digging through her stuff, pulling things out and piling them haphazardly on the table: a battered-looking fantasy novel, a jar of peanut butter, a box of plastic spoons, and then finally her shawl and a pair of scavenged trousers she'd been meaning to tailor to fit better.]