He picks up a few other things too. Towels are fine, but he's also found a blanket he supposes he can surrender. The perpetually refilling cup gained from the faeries, set carefully aside by a stack of vegetables, and a lantern, its warm glow obscenely cheery and not at all matching his mood.
Sephiroth knows, knows that if his older self, his brother for all intents and purposes, trusted Angeal implicitly, he could too. It led him to asking at all, this isn't something he could even begin to trust almost anyone with. But the bite of cold and knowing what he'd asked to be done keeps him from even beginning to relax. He's endured worse. But not by choice.
The added things, more knives, basin, bandages, somehow makes it more real.
And for a moment he looks perplexed about the necessity of sterilizing anything before realization flickers back up. Right. None of them are as protected as they should be. Infection's actually a risk. "..No. My teeth are too sharp." He'd just bite through a whole lot of things! And what he couldn't might well break those same teeth.
The teen shifts from foot too foot, a slow restless motion, unwilling to remove the jacket he knew needed to come off, or the straps keeping things still. "... I can ask another, if this is unacceptable." It's quiet. Very quiet, and in it all the uncertainty and unease and disgust and numb horror he didn't otherwise give voice to. Is it about Angeal's concerns at all, when the First had been nothing but calm and in control, or his own spiraling anxieties? "Elidibus .. has surely seen far worse than this."
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Sephiroth knows, knows that if his older self, his brother for all intents and purposes, trusted Angeal implicitly, he could too. It led him to asking at all, this isn't something he could even begin to trust almost anyone with. But the bite of cold and knowing what he'd asked to be done keeps him from even beginning to relax. He's endured worse. But not by choice.
The added things, more knives, basin, bandages, somehow makes it more real.
And for a moment he looks perplexed about the necessity of sterilizing anything before realization flickers back up. Right. None of them are as protected as they should be. Infection's actually a risk. "..No. My teeth are too sharp." He'd just bite through a whole lot of things! And what he couldn't might well break those same teeth.
The teen shifts from foot too foot, a slow restless motion, unwilling to remove the jacket he knew needed to come off, or the straps keeping things still. "... I can ask another, if this is unacceptable." It's quiet. Very quiet, and in it all the uncertainty and unease and disgust and numb horror he didn't otherwise give voice to. Is it about Angeal's concerns at all, when the First had been nothing but calm and in control, or his own spiraling anxieties? "Elidibus .. has surely seen far worse than this."