... I feel like I should be sorry for probably giving you a heart-attack by scaring you, at the very least. [ Yes, she knows he said there's no apology necessary. But it matters enough to be said, to seek forgiveness for harms against others. In way, she did harm him — probably scared him to death. Even if she guesses he wouldn't change it, he wouldn't not be there to help her. She is deeply sorry for that, at the very least. ]
I'm keeping busy. It helps, a bit. [ The Voice might not add to her thoughts, but there's still plenty of her own to contend with. Her problems remain, with no way to really do anything about them now she's stuck here. And then there's... here, this place. The cold, the dark, the quiet. It doesn't do her spirit much good.
But she's happy he does accept the syrup as a gift at her insistence, and she brightens again, looking quite pleased about it for a moment. He honestly deserves the gift, okay? She won't hear otherwise. And besides, it's something to help him. ]
A spoonful a day should be enough, you could even dilute it with water if you find it kinda too sweet. I dried some to be used as a tea if you ever want some of it, too. [ And she was... honestly kind of expecting it. She already had to explain it to Mr Goodsir, and there's an amused little chuckle. ] It's what we call a micronutrient. Something our bodies need in order to be healthy, which we get from food. When we have limited diets, we end up with deficiencies of certain vitamins.... which means we get sick.
[ She hesitates, her lips pursing tightly. Whatever humour she had is quickly lost by the end of her words. There's worry in her expression, fretful for him, and Mr Goodsir too. All those years, without a proper diet and.... eating from contaminated cans of food. They both seem okay now, but she can't really know for sure. There could be plenty she doesn't know about. ]
... Mr Goodsir told me about how everyone was getting sick from scurvy, and the... um, the lead poisoning, too.
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I'm keeping busy. It helps, a bit. [ The Voice might not add to her thoughts, but there's still plenty of her own to contend with. Her problems remain, with no way to really do anything about them now she's stuck here. And then there's... here, this place. The cold, the dark, the quiet. It doesn't do her spirit much good.
But she's happy he does accept the syrup as a gift at her insistence, and she brightens again, looking quite pleased about it for a moment. He honestly deserves the gift, okay? She won't hear otherwise. And besides, it's something to help him. ]
A spoonful a day should be enough, you could even dilute it with water if you find it kinda too sweet. I dried some to be used as a tea if you ever want some of it, too. [ And she was... honestly kind of expecting it. She already had to explain it to Mr Goodsir, and there's an amused little chuckle. ] It's what we call a micronutrient. Something our bodies need in order to be healthy, which we get from food. When we have limited diets, we end up with deficiencies of certain vitamins.... which means we get sick.
[ She hesitates, her lips pursing tightly. Whatever humour she had is quickly lost by the end of her words. There's worry in her expression, fretful for him, and Mr Goodsir too. All those years, without a proper diet and.... eating from contaminated cans of food. They both seem okay now, but she can't really know for sure. There could be plenty she doesn't know about. ]
... Mr Goodsir told me about how everyone was getting sick from scurvy, and the... um, the lead poisoning, too.