If I weren't so bad at explaining myself I'm sure it would be easier for everyone.

[ She leans against him, gives him a squeeze. It's not something she blames anyone for or needs any apologies about. ]

I'm trying to keep some perspective about this injury. It's not as bad as the poison. It's not as bad as amnesia. I just don't know who I am without being able to move and fight. When I got here, before I had any words, I wanted three things: the sea to calm my mind, companionship to ease my fears, and to fight. Something in me insisted that was my purpose.