Ned is surprised by Veronica's request, but immediately reassures her, "I won't let anything happen to you."
It strikes him as strange, offering protection to a vampire. If a dire wolf or other monster comes by, he's not going to be able to fight it off. Then again, he's a decent enough runner and she is so small: he could easily carry her, if it came to that. The fact that she is worried enough to ask strikes a chord with him. He recognizes that paranoid reflex; it takes one to know one.
"You shouldn't be. Sorry, I mean, about the biting." He feels the anemones blooming beneath his neck, realizes he must be bleeding onto the ground, and adjusts his hold so he can press down harder on the wound. There seems to be a sort of waiting period, between being injured and when his healing powers take effect. "You were very polite. Everyone else just kind of lunged at me."
And then, because Veronica seems pretty out of it and perhaps not in the ideal state to introduce herself, Ned decides to fill the silence on his own.
"Ned," he repeats, "I'm a pie-maker. Or at least I was, before I ended up here." He's still providing sustenance in his way, but he thinks he prefers baking. "Now I'm apparently a guy who makes plants grow with with his hands. Though I suppose everyone who makes plants grow does it with their hands, to some extent. I meant magically. Makes plants grow magically with his hands." He plucks one of the anemones with his free hand holds it up in evidence, twirling it between thumb and forefinger. "Which is kind of nice, if weird. I've been working on an orchard. Help with the food shortage."
He's been helping a bit with the vampire feeding, too, but that's been unofficial and, up until this point, not really his choice.
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It strikes him as strange, offering protection to a vampire. If a dire wolf or other monster comes by, he's not going to be able to fight it off. Then again, he's a decent enough runner and she is so small: he could easily carry her, if it came to that. The fact that she is worried enough to ask strikes a chord with him. He recognizes that paranoid reflex; it takes one to know one.
"You shouldn't be. Sorry, I mean, about the biting." He feels the anemones blooming beneath his neck, realizes he must be bleeding onto the ground, and adjusts his hold so he can press down harder on the wound. There seems to be a sort of waiting period, between being injured and when his healing powers take effect. "You were very polite. Everyone else just kind of lunged at me."
And then, because Veronica seems pretty out of it and perhaps not in the ideal state to introduce herself, Ned decides to fill the silence on his own.
"Ned," he repeats, "I'm a pie-maker. Or at least I was, before I ended up here." He's still providing sustenance in his way, but he thinks he prefers baking. "Now I'm apparently a guy who makes plants grow with with his hands. Though I suppose everyone who makes plants grow does it with their hands, to some extent. I meant magically. Makes plants grow magically with his hands." He plucks one of the anemones with his free hand holds it up in evidence, twirling it between thumb and forefinger. "Which is kind of nice, if weird. I've been working on an orchard. Help with the food shortage."
He's been helping a bit with the vampire feeding, too, but that's been unofficial and, up until this point, not really his choice.