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Don't cast aspersions on my asparagus.
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Holding the bandages by her fingertips, Kizi held them up, not wanting to sully them with any dirt or grit that may have fallen beneath her fingernails or contaminated her palms. She hadn't exactly been the neatest or tidiest person over the past few days. Proper table manners had died pretty quickly.

Waiting for Bart to begin applying the antiseptic wipes, Kizi decided to be helpful in a more sanguine and muted sense. Distraction. That always helped when pain was on the horizon. And antiseptic wipes hurt, she remembered.

Kizi met Clarice's gaze, and followed it. She was examining the books. That was pretty in-character for her. Clarice was smart, after all. Just like the artwork in the therapy room, it'd been abandoned, left to rot and decay, subject to the whims of vandals and the erosions of time. A great shame, really. Faculties such as this were bound to have good libraries. Books that could make a difference. But no point in mourning that. There were far bigger issues. Ones that she could actually help.

"So, Clarice, maybe we can hold out here for a bit? Maybe get some reading done? Could be a safe and...uh...effective way at passing the time? I mean, not if you don't want to, of course." She hoped her spiel offered some distraction, some amelioration, from all the duress they were currently under. "Maybe we can try searching through all these books? Could be something...useful."
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Death Is The Only Freedom... · The Library