Roe makes his way towards the kitchen, noticing the figure in furs. "Are- are you alright?" he asks, because he's not sure what else to say. As he talks more and more he realizes how fucking much he misses talking to people. Fuck.
They wave one hand vaguely, seesawwing it back and forth, spear propped against a nearby shelf, standing up on tiptoe to try and see if there's anything on top of the cupboards.
"I'm sorry, I don't have much in here," Roe says, suddenly nervous. But, he's willing to share his food, obviously, he supposes. They stopped the strange thing, somehow. "I think I have a few tins of green beans left, and the gatorade in the cooler under the sink is okay enough to drink. I think."
They drop back onto their feet, hesitate, then turn to look at Roe, pushing their wooden mask up to reveal a scarred-up mouth, which twitches into a hesitant, nervous smile.
Roe can't but help to grin nervously back. "Oh, is that why you can't talk?" he asks, before clapping his hands over his mouth. "Sorry, sorry- I just," he shrugs nervously, "you're- I haven't talked to anyone. In... a long time." He feels like crying. He really, really feels like crying there is a person here and they are in his kitchen and they- "Oh, right, um. Notebook. And pens. Here!"
They hesitate, then carefully take the notebook and scribble, then turn it towards Roe. Tongue is okay. Throat is the bad thing. Got lucky. Would be hard to eat without a tongue.
"Ah, okay, that makes sense. And fair enough- I... sorry. I just." "Did you- what have you done with the fox demon? The voice stealer thing."
"Oh! Oh." Roe furrows his brow in worry, "so it's still out there?" He's no longer quite so panicked, since he's just recently got a hit, but still, he remembers it's screaming and it's voice stealing. "How come it isn't stealing my voice, then?"
Talking is nice. I can't make any sounds, not like that, not anymore. I wish I could. They shuffle from foot to foot. ...do you have any water? Or a mirror? It's been a very long time.
Running water. Uh. "I have water. None of it runs, really, but there's a mirror in the bathroom. I can show you, I think." He looks down. "I'm sorry you can't talk." He fidgets. "I'm alone," he repeats. He doesn't know what else to say.
"Loss," Roe says. "Some over years, some all at once." He doesn't really want to talk about it. "The factory went, and so did almost everyone. Suddenly, too, there's so much left that no one took with them... I've found dirty dishes in peoples sinks."
"I guess so yeah." Roe realizes he is hungry. Right. That was why he had been hunting. "I'm going to look for some canned beans," he says.
