Eren is too used to violence, really, too quick to solve problems with it. He's been fairly calm here in Milton, but it probably won't last. At least he'll be good in a fight when it comes to it.
He just offers a blank stare at the US Marshal thing. He doesn't know what the US is to begin with. He has yet to hear the name of a place he's heard, but he's that his lack of knowledge of the outside world works against him here. Still, he has memories of times and places he's never seen himself, and nothing familiar sounding has come up yet.
It's jarring, being so outside of things. Eren isn't sure he likes it, but all he can do is try to fill in the knowledge gaps.
"I know what a country is," he says, though he really only barely understands the concept of country or nation. "I don't know what a state is, though."
He thinks of Marley, of course, the city of Liberio and the internment camp of Eldians. He's not sure he likes this Marshal business, though he hasn't made any call on what kind of person he thinks Raylan himself is.
Military police, is what he translates this idea as. Only without the military part, apparently. He's not exactly on the money, but he could be farther off.
"I'm a soldier, yeah. For…" he thinks for a second, trying to remember what year it is, trying to make time make sense. It never does, but he catches the number. "About seven years." Eren is full grown, but barely, the last vestiges of boyhood softness still lingering in his face. He definitely was not an adult all those years.
That's just how the world is to him, though. He thinks nothing of it.
"We mostly weren't fighting actual humans," he says. "But I've fought enough of those, too."
He leads Raylan back to the house. There's a window in the upstairs bedroom where the panes have fallen out, shattered on the ground outside below. Eren hasn't bothered cleaning up the glass yet.
"I wouldn't care about this, but it's really fucking cold here," he says. "So…I figured I should board it up or something."
tw talk of child soldiers
He just offers a blank stare at the US Marshal thing. He doesn't know what the US is to begin with. He has yet to hear the name of a place he's heard, but he's that his lack of knowledge of the outside world works against him here. Still, he has memories of times and places he's never seen himself, and nothing familiar sounding has come up yet.
It's jarring, being so outside of things. Eren isn't sure he likes it, but all he can do is try to fill in the knowledge gaps.
"I know what a country is," he says, though he really only barely understands the concept of country or nation. "I don't know what a state is, though."
He thinks of Marley, of course, the city of Liberio and the internment camp of Eldians. He's not sure he likes this Marshal business, though he hasn't made any call on what kind of person he thinks Raylan himself is.
Military police, is what he translates this idea as. Only without the military part, apparently. He's not exactly on the money, but he could be farther off.
"I'm a soldier, yeah. For…" he thinks for a second, trying to remember what year it is, trying to make time make sense. It never does, but he catches the number. "About seven years." Eren is full grown, but barely, the last vestiges of boyhood softness still lingering in his face. He definitely was not an adult all those years.
That's just how the world is to him, though. He thinks nothing of it.
"We mostly weren't fighting actual humans," he says. "But I've fought enough of those, too."
He leads Raylan back to the house. There's a window in the upstairs bedroom where the panes have fallen out, shattered on the ground outside below. Eren hasn't bothered cleaning up the glass yet.
"I wouldn't care about this, but it's really fucking cold here," he says. "So…I figured I should board it up or something."