Arc II: Together, Alone [Shiloh & Sabin & Elisha]

It wasn't easy to lose everything familiar. Shiloh knew this already. He knew it intimately, to the point that he thought he might as well consider it as one would an old friend. If it arrived unannounced, there was nothing to do but welcome it. Ask how long it would be visiting. Make it comfortable for its stay. 

But watching his housemates experience it for the first time was something else entirely. Less of an old friend and more of a new enemy, one he wasn't entirely sure how to fight. He was doing his best to be something familiar in the midst of all the loss and confusion, but how could one person measure up against a country? A history? An identity? If he found himself lacking, how could he expect them to find him adequate? 

He was more restless than he could recall ever being before, and had taken to walking to try and calm his mind in place of the woodcarving tools he no longer had. Maybe something felt sorry for him, because in his exploration of his new surroundings, he'd found something familiar.  

Sawdust floors and straw-filled targets. Weighted bags that hung from the rafters. The familiar clacking of practice swords. His hand briefly reached over his shoulder where he'd taken to keeping Tyrfing across his back, only to remember a moment later that he'd left the relic in his room. Would it get jealous if he used a practice sword? It seemed very sure of itself.. but it seemed just as prideful. Shiloh frowned, resting his palm on his shoulder a moment longer before choosing to approach the punching bags instead. It was a safe bet. Tyrfing couldn't be upset with him for using his own fists, right?

Only, he'd never done much with bare fists. It felt oddly personal, a little too close for comfort, almost claustrophobic with the punching bag hanging in front of him. There was nothing else to do with it. He punched it. Watching it swing away, and arc back, he wondered if maybe he enjoyed the safety that being behind the hilt of a sword provided. He swung his arm again and smacked the bag as it came back his direction, sending it away once again. Maybe he liked that it kept a distance between him and whatever stood on the other end. Another punch. Maybe it was smarter to be cautious. 

A brief memory of fire flickered in the back of his mind, and this time, when the bag returned, he struck like he meant it.

Ever since Sabin and his housemates awoke in the Black Empire, he had done his best to put on a brave face in front of everyone. Death was never something Sabin was afraid of, after all no one knew or cared about him, so dying was just something that he figured would happen eventually. He kept thinking back to the labyrinth, the sight of Voland begging for his life, Korin's words directed at Keon, his own treatment of the monster that ended up saving his life. At this moment Sabin was focused on two things, helping his friends and getting strong.  

To work off some of these emotions he decided to start training again, this new body was quite different than his old one after all. He began by going for a run to the training grounds, he figured this would be a good way to acclimate to the new goat legs that he grown fond of. As he approached the training grounds, ready to throw some punches for the first time in months, the sight of Shiloh caught his attention.  

"Shiloh doesn't punch." he thought to himself. Or at the very least he had never seen Shiloh throw a punch, he seemed too... kind for it. As he watched on, he noticed that after a few easy punches, the last one Shiloh threw looked as if he was trying to attack someone. 

Sabin started to approach Shiloh and greeted him in Giant, "Hey there Shiloh! Didn't think you were the type of person to throw punches. That last one was awesome!"

A quiet rage had coiled itself in Shiloh's shoulder, weaving between the muscles and bones, and waiting eagerly for another chance to strike out as he watched the bag fly away once again. It had felt good--better than he'd expected--but whatever anger had been held in Shiloh's mind promptly disappeared at the sound of familiar words. He sharply turned his head, confused for a moment by the presence of his own language where he was sure it didn't belong, and then settled on Sabin. 

Right. He'd nearly forgotten that the halfing had already surprised him with it once before. Former halfing, he corrected himself, very plainly looking at the hooves Sabin had acquired. He'd probably have stared longer if it weren't for the punching bag he'd set it motion and then promptly forgotten. 

The heavy weight crashed back into his side, sending Shiloh stumbling several steps back before he managed to trip on his own feet and land unceremoniously on the floor. He sat there, momentarily stunned by sheer amount of unexpected things that had happened in the span of several seconds. Without bothering to get up, he gave his head a quick shake and looked back towards Sabin. 

"I don't usually punch.. anything.." Why did his words feel so awkward all of a sudden? It was like they didn't belong in this conversation at all. Shiloh shoved down the confusion and climbed back to his feet. "That's more your sort of thing anyway, isn't it? Unless you've altered more than what I can see."

Sabin smiled as Shiloh got back up. He was glad to see his old roommate was alright. Memories of being knocked over by punching bags either due to distraction or it being intentionally shoved towards him while at the monastery came back to him, he remembered how everyone would laugh at him or kick him while he was down, he wouldn't treat Shiloh the same. 

He walked towards the punching bag and looked at Shiloh, "Oh don't you worry about me Lohloh..." a brief moment of silence passed, "Yep, I'm not so sure about that nickname." Sabin chuckled. Shiloh was such a hard name for him to shorten to a fun nickname, but he'd think on and hopefully come up with something better. "Punching is still very much my thing, I just have longer, different legs now... and horns. I'm quite enjoying it actually, I can jump higher now, headbutt people, and... hug people without just being near their legs."  

Outside of those moments when Keon was mentioned, Sabin was unable to read Shiloh even after spending those few months being roommates. Shiloh seemed to be a kind caring person, who had no problems murdering Sabin if he hit Keon. Sabin wasn't sure if Shiloh felt embarrassed or not about what just happened, but he wanted to reassure him, that it happens to everyone. "Don't worry about falling down, just need to make sure you always get back up. You wouldn't believe how many times I've been knocked down like that and I'm the one who punches."

"I'm not against nicknames, but you might need to try harder." Shiloh took a small step backwards, realizing for the first time that he now had to look quite a ways up to talk to Sabin. That may take some getting used to. How many of his housemates towered over him now? Everyone but Rus? Shiloh wrinkled his nose, both at that thought and Sabin's advice.  

"You don't need to tell me what to do." The words came out sharp on instinct, needled against the well-meaning encouragement. There was no reason not to speak his mind now. No reason to pause and pick out the right words. Shiloh huffed quietly to himself. No reason to be unkind. Sabin was being helpful, after all. Or, at least trying to be. He tried again, this time with less of an edge. 

"I already know how to get back up." 

The memory of ash and fire rose again in the back of his mind. A bright streaking line through the smoke. The shadows of the others sprawled over the ground around him, twisted and charred and gone. Alone, again. Spared, again. Why was it happening again-- 

"I always get back up," he murmured to himself, not entirely present. His expression had frozen, and his skin paled past its usual fair tone before he could quickly turn back to the punching bag and send it flying once again with a desperate punch. If he could just focus on this, on something simple, he wouldn't have to think. He wouldn't have to wonder.

Sabin took a step towards Shiloh and patted him on the head, now that he could do this sort of thing, he wanted to take full advantage. "Well that's good, I'm glad." Not knowing how Shiloh would react to an interaction like that, he took a step back. 

Choosing to ignore Shiloh's more blunt comment, he continued, "At the monastery you'd have two types of people those who were afraid to stand up at all and those who fell once and never stood up again. Both type are cowards in my eyes, I'm glad that you're like me. We always get back up. There's not many out there who would." The smile that he usually wore was gone, and he had a sterner tone than usual. Sabin hated thinking about the monastery, more than that he hated talking about his time there and here he was opening his mouth without thinking. Perhaps though, this is what Shiloh needed to hear.  

He could tell those weren't ordinary punches being thrown, to him it seemed almost as if Shiloh was punching as some sort of release. The look on his face, worried Sabin. He knew everyone was in a different state after everything that had happened and he wasn't always the best with words, but he needed Shiloh to know how grateful he was.

He could tell those werent ordinary punches being thrown, to him it seemed almost as if Shiloh was punching as some sort of release. The look on his face, worried Sabin. He knew everyone was in a different state after everything that had happened and he wasn't always the best with words, but he needed Shiloh to know how grateful he was. "You know... at the monastery... I was beat up a lot." Sabin turned his eyes to the ground, he couldn't say all this while looking at Shiloh. "I still don't really understand why, whether it was because I was small or because an orphan, I never understood why I was the target. No one... ever cared about me. I spent every night alone for most my life, thinking to myself about how I couldn't wait for death, since no one would care if I was gone or not. So when I got the chance to run and get away from that hell, I took it." Tears were starting to pool up in his eyes, it took every bit of his strength to hold them back. "I know I might be loud and obnoxious, but I really have grown to care about everyone from our house, something that I wasn't expecting." No matter how hard he tried, the tears had begun flowing from his eyes with no end in sight. "I guess... the reason I'm telling you all this is because... I...". After a brief pause Sabin cleared his throat, looked up at Shiloh, tears streaming down his face, "Thank you for being able to stand and bring back the five most important people to me back from death."  

Sabin knew that he would be ok with passing on as long as his friends were ok, his life meant less to him than theirs did. He now simply stood there, sobbing.

Shiloh immediately bristled beneath Sabin's hand. It was a good thing the other boy took a step back, or the punch Shiloh turned and threw at the weighted bag may have been for him instead. Again, he felt the release of energy, and again he positioned himself to focus on that. Sabin could be speaking Common for all he cared, so long as he could keep hitting the bag. 

It was easier to listen to him this way, too. Watching the punching bag swing away and return meant he didn't have to watch Sabin's face. He could tell enough from the tone and words. Maybe he could tell too much.  

I never understood why I was the target.  

That was your first mistake, Shiloh thought, surprising himself with the bitterness that resonated in his head. There was no understanding it. It could be one thing, or another, or both or neither, and knowing which wouldn't change the outcome. It was a waste of time. Some things weren't meant to be understood.  

He was pulled from his thoughts by the unmistakable warble of words spoken through tears. Sabin was crying. It wasn't new--he'd seen Sabin cry plenty already--and it didn't pull him away from the steady rhythm of punches and waiting he'd made for himself. Not until Sabin tried to thank him. 

Shiloh grabbed the punching bag as it swung back towards him, bringing it to an abrupt halt. Thank him? For what? For standing alone in a pile of corpses? A wave of rage and grief rose in his throat, and for a moment, he thought he might throw up.  

There shouldn't have been any corpses. There shouldn't have been vacant eyes and melted flesh, and only one of them left to see it. Just one. Just him. The muscles in his arm tensed, his knuckles white from gripping the coarse material of the bag so tightly. He leveled an icy glare back at Sabin and his tears, as though that might keep his own at bay. 

"Do not thank me for that."

Sabin stood there silent for a moment and then slowly started to wipe the tears from his eyes, Shiloh's words had snapped him back. "What in the fuck just happened." Sabin was squinting at Shiloh. He didn't really think about what would happen when he started sharing that story, but that certainly wasn't the response he saw coming. "Well at least he overlooked me sharing more than I cared to, can't believe I let all that out."  

Sabin couldn't help but start considering what Shiloh was going through. "Obviously Keon, they're pretty close. Maybe Keon's dad? Dying? Missing his parents?" He had no real idea why he wouldn't want to be thanked of all things. He shifted his eyes away from that glare that Shiloh was giving him and moved towards and nearby wall and leaned against. 

"And why not? Obviously, ideal scenario that fire whip wielding fuck is dead and we're not, but I guess Keon was right, he's strong." Sabin's brow was now slightly furrowed and he was tapping one of his hooves on the wall. "*Is he really so stupid he doesn't realize what he did for us?"  

"We live to fight another day and now we know what we're up against. I don't know about you, but I intend to make both Korin and the Headmistress pay... and that means getting stronger."

It would be much easier punch Sabin, Shiloh realized, now that he wasn't at waist height. The impulse was strong, and the arm still holding the punching bag was practically shaking. He could feel his eyes stinging, the taste of ash creeping across his tongue, the scent of smoke couldn't be far behind. He knew the pattern by now, having seen it play out around him time and time again when he hadn't managed to pull his mind elsewhere. The whip came after the smoke, and then the bodies-- 

He had to go. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. 

Shiloh stiffly pushed away the punching bag and stalked off past Sabin without a backwards glance. 

"I'm not having this conversation with you."

Sabin smirked, he knew that getting Shiloh to talk now probably wouldn't be possible, so he thought of the next best thing. "Let's spar. I'd like to see how this new body fights." His gaze was focused on the ground, he didn't care to talk someones back. He figured if Shiloh needed someone to hit, he could be that someone in the moment, he was used to it after all. "We can go for a single round or a few, doesn't really matter to me. Only rules are no killing and no injuring each other, if either of those things happened we wouldn't hear the end of it from the rest of them." He knew what his intentions were, but he couldn't help but be feel a burst energy, he hadn't been able to properly spar in ages and going up against Shiloh would be great. 

"So what do you say? It's just like the punching bag, except you'll miss and I'll hit back. After all, you did come here to train didn't you?"

"I came here to think," Shiloh snapped over his shoulder, a tremor of pure irritation traveling through his body. There was no point in trying to temper the edge in his voice anymore, and he didn't particularly mind it. Nothing else seemed to get through to Sabin, anyway. He turned around once more, both hands balled in tight fists at his sides and an icy glint to his eyes.  

"No. I won't spar with you, Sabin." He didn't often take this tone, but it was one Sabin at heard before, albeit in Common. If it had been a warning in translation, its original form was no less than a threat. "I'm going somewhere else to think. You're going to leave me the fuck alone, or you'll regret it." 

With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the training grounds.

Elisha had been meaning to have a word or few with Sabin and, eventually, Rus. It was troublesome to not always find everyone at their rooms-- but perhaps, to be expected. While Keon and Rus were understandably under the weather, the rest had to be antsy after their 3 month prolonged death nap. 

After asking around, he had discovered the existence of a training space-- it seemed a likely place to start. And his hunch had been correct-- what he hadn't been expecting was Shiloh and Sabin in an argument. Those voices were familiar, even if their tongue was not. 

Unfortunate. He resigned himself to leaning against the nearest wall, knowing it would look like eavesdropping and not finding the energy in himself to care. The others already thought him incorrigible to a point. And he would have been eavesdropping, if he'd been able to understand the snatches of foreign tongue in raised voices. 

Shiloh rushed past, and Elisha pretended not to notice him. Then he waited a minute before entering the grounds. 

"Sabin~?" He kept his tone light and innocent, as if he hadn't been standing there for at least 5 minutes. "I just saw Shiloh leaving. Are you two alright?"

Sabin was lost in thought, he was disappointed in himself for not being able to get Shiloh to open. His intention wasn't to upset him, but as usual that's all he ended up doing. All he could do now was do something to make it up to him, maybe go and find him some good wood and carving tools? Shiloh would likely throw them away or refuse to accept if he received them from him, maybe he could ask Keon to do it.  

His train of thought was interrupted by a familiar voice, a voice that he could usually hide from by stepping behind someone else. This new height now had at least one disadvantage. 

"I'm... fine. We just had another one of our misunderstandings. I forgot to pick my words carefully and... yeah, he's probably upset." Sabin didn't really want to have this conversation, he knew he messed up and didn't want to keep talking about it. 

Sabin lifted his head and slightly tilted it towards Elisha, "Anyways Ellie, what are you doing in the training grounds? Didn't think I'd run into you here."

It had gotten them in trouble in more than one occasion, but it was nice how straightforward Sabin was about stating his thoughts. Even when he was trying to be cunning, his intentions were clear and that somehow made it less malicious. 

Elisha nodded sympathetically as Sabin dismissed the topic of Shiloh-- though the impulse was there to prod at it further, he knew he shouldn't be straining their group's relationships further than they already were. He would have offered advice, except he himself didn't know how to smooth things over with the sensitive, discerning, judgmental younger man. 

Instead the cleric approached, tilting his head to the side in curiosity and circling Sabin as he marveled at his new height and form. Ellie, hm? Well, he supposed he was glad that they were acquainted enough that Sabin would try to include him in the antics. It seemed to be Sabin's way of saying I want to get to know you better, looking at all the people Sabin had applied his unfortunate nicknames to-- much like Elisha's morbid teasing. He supposed he should indulge him. 

"Sound body, sound mind," he repeated as if in lecture. "One is not a pre-requisite for the other, but honing one expands the other. Ah, should probably get Emory in here." He personally didn't care whether or not Emory trained, but he knew that Sabin likewise enjoyed ribbing poor Emory both about his grades and his physique. He chuckled, though it was an entirely practiced sound, and prodded a tight muscle in Sabin's back. 

"Though to be entirely honest, I was looking for you, Sabie~" He continued to circle, slowly. He wasn't sure if Sabie was equally compelling as Ellie, but he let the word drip with sickeningly sweet endearment. "I wanted to hear about how you and Rus found our relics-- a big thank you, by the way-- and... well, there was a lot of blood involved..."

Sabin wasn't bothered by Elisha's interest in his new body. He was, after all, quite pleased with it himself. Although, if he were continue poking, that would get on his nerves quite fast. 

He shifted his eyes away from Elisha, he didn't really want to talk about this now, but he also didn't want to upset another housemate. "I can tell you about the relics, but I'd prefer if we were all together to explain... the blood. I'd also ask that you keep this all between us for now, but I promise I'll tell everyone soon." Sabin tried his best not think back on that terrible moment. While he was hurt by Voland's suffering and passing, his worry for Rus was greater. Elisha no doubt was more interested in the blood than how the relics were retrieved, but he would have to live with only half the story for now. 

Sabin's eyebrows rose suddenly, it had just now occurred to him that Elisha had called him Sabie, he was not happy about this little nickname. However, he couldn't let Elisha know how he felt, so he chose to overlook it in hopes of never hearing it again.

Elisha's eyes narrowed as Sabin suddenly became uncooperative, and it was probably good Sabin didn't overly react to the nickname-- he would have honed in on that like a shark to blood. 

Luckily for Sabin, his primary goal wasn't to simply antagonize him. Elisha steeled himself for the upcoming conversation, as he knew exactly how frustratingly stubborn the other man could be. 

"Rus killed an innocent person." He deduced the obvious, hoping if he pretended that he knew the full details (or even accusingly got them wrong) that Sabin would clear things up. Still, it didn't take much to guess-- Rus had been the one covered head to toe in blood, his brilliant spear dripping with red before Keon cleaned him up. The weapons had to have been guarded. It just baffled him that Rus would have dispatched them so uncharacteristically violently, while Sabin didn't look like he'd gotten in a fight at all aside from a few stray drops. 

Elisha sighed, stopping in front of Sabin, hands clasped behind his back in an attempt to appear relaxed and non-confrontational. "You don't have to cover for him. I'd have done the same, for you all. But I need to know, so that I know how to help him- and I can help him. I was his room mate, Sabin. How long is it going to take for all of us to come together in privacy enough for you to share? Do you think Keon is in a state to hear about more trauma?" He made statement after statement, hoping to overwhelm Sabin before he could counter any of his arguments.

There is no way he could know. Was it a lucky guess? There was no body and he hand't mentioned Voland's name. Regardless of what Elisha thought he knew, Sabin had told him, he wouldn't tell him about the blood and he meant it. 

Sabin stood up straight and put his right hand on Elisha's left shoulder and just slightly squeezed. He gave Elisha a similar, if not, identical cold icy look as Shiloh had just given him. Sabin hadn't felt like this before, he was angry and knew he had to protect Rus. Attacking without a warning wouldn't be good for the group and he was hoping a threat may just make Elisha back off. "You won't be bothering Rus with this." 

Sabin let go of Elisha and began walking over to the punching bag, hoping to work off some of this energy. He didn't want to hurt Elisha, but he also didn't know how else he could protect Rus from having to answer his questions. 

He gave the punching bag a quick 1-2 punch. "If you want to know about the relics, I'll still tell you."  

He continued to go at the punching bag.

There was the frustrating stubbornness. Still, Elisha smiled, soft but self-satisfied like a cat. While a look like that from Shiloh would have made his blood seethe, that was because Shiloh would have directed it at him and it might have been personal between them. When Sabin did it, it was for Rus, and Elisha could forgive that. Still, it clearly illustrated Sabin's seriousness about the topic. 

'So I'm right, at least a little bit.' He kept the gloating in his thoughts, and he didn't dare try to approach Sabin too close now that the other was working off steam. Sabin hadn't denied it. Someone died, or at least had been grievously injured-- after all, if that had been monster's blood, Rus would be scarred by the acidity of the burns, and if it had been Korin... well, Korin had looked in the fullest of his health. It could have been any of the faculty, or members of the Blackwood house, or even just gargoyles (did gargoyles still bleed during the day?), but any of them would probably have made Rus feel equally bad, so Elisha didn't stretch his imagination enough to try to guess who it was. 

Instead, Elisha brushed off his shoulder and feigned a defeated sigh. "I won't be bothering Rus with this." He conceded, hoping but not hoping too much that Sabin understood the weight of the favor he was giving him. He did want to have a good relationship with Sabin, if possible. Sabin just happened to be the roadblock, in this particular instance. 

"Sure~! I would love that. You two seemed to be having a great time when you dropped them on us. I would like to be in on the joke. What was the vault like?" He found a perch nearby on some equipment, and rested his chin on his hand, elbow on his knee, watching the muscles flex in Sabin's back as the man hit the bag with gusto.

Sabin had a hard time reading Elisha's intentions, but he could relax for just a moment. He knew this wouldn't be the last time Elisha would ask about what happened, but for now at least Rus wouldn't have to talk about it with anyone else. While, Sabin and Elisha weren't exactly friends, it didn't mean Sabin didn't care about him and the last thing he wanted to do right now was upset someone else he cared about in such quick succession, but he also had to protect Rus.  

He started to recount what had happened to them after the group was separated. Sabin and Rus had found themselves in the dark laboratory with 6 doors, each with a different marking. They ventured into the one marked with a star, because of course Rus chose the star. Sabin told Elisha about how that moving sludge made him feel when he was near it, the tightness he felt in his chest. How that sludge was moving through tubes into large cylinders which housed the relics. He recalled how he punched the glass cylinder because Rus had wanted to reach for the handle, which ended up being his relic. Rus' relic had instructed him to free the remaining relics and opened up that portal, which they sent the relics through. 

"It was just so funny seeing you all one by one get hit on the head by your own weapons, we couldn't hold back the laughter."

Well, that hadn't been the adventure he'd been expecting at all. Strange, the description of that sludge and its effects. 

"And I thought I was the bully..." Elisha pursed his lips and pouted a little, just thankful that The Wallace Sword had at least been sheathed. Rus really seemed to get his kicks off of shenanigans, and Elisha quietly stowed that observation away for later. Maybe self-deprecating humor was the way to Sabin's good graces as well? His gut reaction was to complain that they'd been knocked out cold in proximity to a flesh eating monster, but it wouldn't be good to ruin a brighter moment in this time of darkness for Sabin and Rus. And none of them had come to true harm done, so... 

He sighed. "Well, thank you greatly for the recounting. It's nice to talk to someone who doesn't storm off, if I am to be honest. And it is nice to be honest." He was still trying to figure out how he felt about the firmly threatening shoulder touch. He didn't doubt Sabin would have punched him if he'd kept prying about Rus. "Let us always be honest with one another, hm Sabie~?"

Choosing to ignore hearing that nickname again, Sabin stopped hitting the punching bag for a moment. "I'd like to think I'm always honest...and that honesty seems to rub people the wrong way." There had been a question that was eating away at him since they woke up, but he found himself too afraid to ask. He wasn't sure if Elisha was the right person to talk this about, but he didn't want to hold it in any longer. Sabin gazed back towards Elisha with a disheartened look, "Do you think we all stay together after everything that has happened?"

'And that honesty seems to rub people the wrong way.' 

So Sabin was aware of that characteristic, then? And it still didn't stop him from barreling forward unabashedly? Elisha tilted his head in thought, musing on this puzzle, when Sabin turned back to look at with such dejection. 

Perhaps normally, Elisha would have dismissed the fear with a cheery quip or dismissively optimistic reassurance, but that thought had been lurking in the back of his own mind. It was difficult to say that the White Lamb House was cohesive-- they were as different from each other as it got. But... that was honestly what was so fun about it. There was change happening to all of them-- and just like blood, just like death, it fascinated Elisha as much as it scared him. 

He didn't think Keon would have betrayed his father if Shiloh hadn't been here. He didn't think Rus and Keon would have had to confront their shared backgrounds if they hadn't been around each other. He didn't think Emory would have had to prove himself as much if Sabin hadn't been around to heckle him. He didn't think Sabin would be filled with as much resolve if he hadn't found people to do it for. And Elisha didn't think that he himself would be feeling... invested? Protective? Something. Something he wasn't entirely sure how to name. He wouldn't be feeling that way if they all hadn't been around and all hadn't been changing. 

The thought of moving forward was frightening, perhaps. But the thought of losing it all was even more terrifying. For a moment, he was afraid that his own expression might be mirroring Sabin's dismay-- his hand reached up to his cheek, as if to check that his smile was still in place. 

'How could we not? Of course we will. We only have each other.' The words didn't quite fit right to how he honestly felt. And he had just promised, hadn't he? 

"We have to."

"We have to." Sabin kept repeating those words in his head. He wanted nothing more than to believe Elisha, but could they? Sabin had two concerns that he felt that some in the group wouldn't overlook. The death of Voland and Korin's attack on the party, could everyone get past those events without casting blame on anyone? It wasn't Rus' fault that he had to be the one that, in Sabin's eyes, saved Voland from pain. Just like it wasn't Keon's fault that his father had struck them all down, Korin had after all struck down his own son right next to them.  

Sabin's expression changed to a somewhat relieved look, "I'm glad to hear you say that. I'm hoping everyone feels that way. I... I don't know what I'll do if I'm alone again."

"A bit of a selfish reason~" Elisha couldn't help the response-- he knew the admission was a vulnerability that Sabin had just gifted him, but couldn't help but pick at it any more than Nox would be able to resist a quail's intestine. He immediately softened it by following up quickly, "But selfish isn't always bad. And I don't think any of us could stand to be alone. A life is not just a heart-- it's a stomach, and lungs, and liver, and brain, too. We're all just organs cut from our places for being too strange. I wonder what kind of creature we look like, as a whole." His attempt to be reassuring stretched into a bit of a strange ramble, perhaps attempting to lessen the sincerity of their conversation by... monologuing.

Sabin's eyes widened as he went to hide behind the punching bag. "What the fuck is he talking about?" He wasn't ready for whatever all that rambling was just now, his mind could barely process it.  

Going back to what Elisha had initially said, Sabin knew he was being selfish, but for once he didn't care. Outside of Shiloh and possibly Elisha, everyone else was without family. Sure, Rus and Keon both had homes they could go back to, but what would be waiting for them there, nothing but misery. If they all just stayed together, they could protect each other. 

"If you wouldn't mind... can this conversation stay between us?"

Ah, yes, he had lost him. Elisha smiled patiently as Sabin put space between them-- then walked closer, putting one hand on the punching bag tenderly and peeking around it. He had to look up at Sabin-- which wasn't a bad thing. 

"But of course. I only want what you want." His eyes seemed to be searching for something in Sabin for a moment, before he turned away and began to leave. He could take a hint. 

"You should take a break from training. Don't overwork your body, Sabie. Muscles can only recover so quickly. If you're hasty, you'll only set yourself back." Elisha meant it both literally and figuratively.