... Shit. [ It's kind of said out of disbelief, more than anything. He doesn't think he's ever met someone who's even been to Kazakhstan before. Or someone from Russia, actually. ]
You're pretty far from home. Or— maybe not so far. I... don't know the exact geography of this place. Somewhere in Canada, I guess. [ He's rambling a little. Mostly from the anxiety, mostly because he's reeling at the fact there is a man from Russia covered in blood on the couch, and also because he doesn't want to quite address the question.
Still, he stares at the blood. What's he supposed to do with that? He doesn't even know first aid. His throat feels tight. ... is he going to die on him? Finally, he shakes his head. ]
They're not here. I—I... I came alone. [ He swallows thickly and he has to look away. Instead he can focus on other things more important: he turns, moves to throw more wood on the fire and goes in search of blankets, maybe put some water on to boil — something to clean the blood away with, maybe make some tea to warm him up. It's something, even in his frenzied, lost energy. It's not doing something. If he's dying, the least Kieren can do is make the man comfortable.
He returns quickly, setting water on to boil on the fire. Blankets in his arms which he sets covering the man with. And then... a plastic bowl, to which Kieren winces. ]
no subject
You're pretty far from home. Or— maybe not so far. I... don't know the exact geography of this place. Somewhere in Canada, I guess. [ He's rambling a little. Mostly from the anxiety, mostly because he's reeling at the fact there is a man from Russia covered in blood on the couch, and also because he doesn't want to quite address the question.
Still, he stares at the blood. What's he supposed to do with that? He doesn't even know first aid. His throat feels tight. ... is he going to die on him? Finally, he shakes his head. ]
They're not here. I—I... I came alone. [ He swallows thickly and he has to look away. Instead he can focus on other things more important: he turns, moves to throw more wood on the fire and goes in search of blankets, maybe put some water on to boil — something to clean the blood away with, maybe make some tea to warm him up. It's something, even in his frenzied, lost energy. It's not doing something. If he's dying, the least Kieren can do is make the man comfortable.
He returns quickly, setting water on to boil on the fire. Blankets in his arms which he sets covering the man with. And then... a plastic bowl, to which Kieren winces. ]
... in case you need to, um. Throw up. Again.