"I am so sorry." He bites his lower lip so hard that in fascinated horror she sees one of his teeth pop through the skin of his lip, and blood wells up. His hands shake as he begins to gather her into his arms, lifting her up, so that she rests against the wiry warmth of him. He smells good, like spices and pine sap instead of the excrement and burnt flesh she's smelt for days upon days, and she nestles closer to him automatically.