[Ishu]

November 30th, Chicago; Sewer #17.

At first, it sounded like she was going to give him a genuine compliment... and then she kept going. Her words cut as him as memories boiled into his mind and his features grew flatter and without expression. The man gave a slight nod and more roughly tucked her into her blanket like a burrito and pat her, a bit more roughly, on the shoulder. "Sleep well."

Amante stood up, looking a bit too large for the tent, and hunched over to duck out of the entrance and to the outside. The flaps shut heavily behind him and his footsteps slowly grew quieter until he was gone. She may not know it, but she actually sort of hurt him with her ignorance. To judge him so deeply... she had no idea the sacrifices made, on his end. Maybe one day she would understand but, now, he was just so frustrated he didn't even want to think about that.