[She startles him, anyway. He'd tried to plan for everything, except— well, except the possibility that somebody might be staying in here. He hates it enough that he didn't even consider the possibility someone could want to spend so much time here; he's only drawn to it the same way people are drawn to picking scabs or pressing bruises.
But, well, okay, fine. Ruth has some mitigating circumstances.]
Shit. [To himself, mostly, but he doesn't really bother to lower his voice. The one benefit of not speaking a language anyone understands.] My bloody luck.
[He fishes around in his bag for his walkie talkies. He's trying to focus on her and not the reflections that are springing up around her, but it's... hard, with how distinct they are. What a world she must come from.]
Hello. [This he says in English, actually, parroted warily back at her. The sounds of the language aren't that different from his own, and he's picked up enough to know it's a greeting. He's mostly just trying to give her a familiar cue.] Uhhh... Radio?
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But, well, okay, fine. Ruth has some mitigating circumstances.]
Shit. [To himself, mostly, but he doesn't really bother to lower his voice. The one benefit of not speaking a language anyone understands.] My bloody luck.
[He fishes around in his bag for his walkie talkies. He's trying to focus on her and not the reflections that are springing up around her, but it's... hard, with how distinct they are. What a world she must come from.]
Hello. [This he says in English, actually, parroted warily back at her. The sounds of the language aren't that different from his own, and he's picked up enough to know it's a greeting. He's mostly just trying to give her a familiar cue.] Uhhh... Radio?
[He hasn't picked up that many words.]