no subject

[Armin hisses softly when he first presses the ice chip against his injuries. There is a sting, the cold sharp, but soon it starts to help lessen the throb in his bruised flesh. Who knows, it might even help bring down the swelling some so he won't just be squinting at things out of one eye. The quasimodo look just isn't a good one for Armin.]

Thank you.

[Armin, honestly, is fine not discussing Ambrose right now. The sting of it is fresh, anger and worry and sense of self-disgust at letting it happen coiling in his stomach.]

We should try and get the rest of these free. This sort of thing... I've never seen anything this low.