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It was just turning into one of those days, and he knew it was the second he rounded a corner and found himself looking straight at a certain one-eyed b***h, who by the looks of things was attempting, and failing somewhat miserably, to swing a chain around. He stopped in his tracks and watched for a moment, eye narrowing as he took in the movement, before shaking his head. She was doing it all wrong. What an idiot.

The wyvern, typically not one for speaking much, sounded off in his head, his voice tapering off with a growled yawn that made it sound as though he had just been asleep.

And why would I want to do that? He snapped back in his head, before striding towards her, as if to make a point to the dragon like creature in his head.

"Sweetheart, what the hell are you trying to do with that?" He asked, gesturing with a gloved hand down towards the chain she had just dropped on the ground.

Finn eyed her carefully as he approached, eye narrowed as he took in her appearance, noted that she appeared..different. "Wow sweetheart, do please take this the wrong way because you look like absolute s**t. What happened? No more lesbian love energy to keep you sustained so now you're just going to fade away?" No filter, as usual, no ******** to give, either, for the woman who was just as handicapped in the sight department as he was.

Whe she offered an explanation, his gaze drifted down to her hands, noting the bruises, and combined with her words, he frowned. It didn't take a genius to piece together what she was saying, and the look he gave her when he raised his eye back up to level with hers was hard and cold.

"What the ******** did you do to your actual weapon?"

In the back of his head, Trynt rustled around uneasily.

Finn had crossed his arms over his chest, a sour look on his face despite the look on his eye never changing. Halloween broke it? Permanently? And now she was just...going to give up and die. Fantastic.

"Unacceptable." He growled, reaching out to try and grab her arm, to turn her towards him because he couldn't stand the way she refused to even look at him. "You're not allowed to just die like this, Nevada. Get a new ******** weapon." Why couldn't that be possible? It made no sense to him that she couldn't just bond with another. All of the technology on this island, and nobody had figured out a way to let that happen, yet? If weapons could be passed on, from hunter to hunter, then surely they could also be capable of bonding, of being compatible, with more then one.

Trynt sounded subdued, almost sad, even through the snarl of his voice.

"No." He snapped back, not even realizing he had said the word out loud.

All he could do was shake his head. She was talking about how if they didn't have a weapon, that made them useless. But how could that be the case now when fifteen years ago there were hunters who had no weapons because weapons were sparse? Was it the insanity? Was that the major factor here?

"Shut up." He growled, trying to think his way through what she was saying. "So get some runic weapons and go work on an outpost somewhere away from here, and away from Halloween." He knew they wouldn't allow her to just go back to living as a normal person in the human world. But if she was away from the Fear, and the Insanity, wouldn't she be okay? Of course, she wouldn't have a shield, and it would be easier for her to die but....

"I don't care." He snapped. "I don't care, and I don't like you, but that doesn't mean I'm going to dance around happy that you've decided to die. I also don't care how expendable you seem to think we are. I didn't lose my eye because I was useless, I lost my eye because I'm a mouthy a*****e that doesn't know when to stop talking. I damaged myself. You damaged yourself. We chose it. Just like, it seems, you are willfully choosing to be pathetic."

"At least we agree on the not caring part." He wasn't yelling, but maybe he had raised his voice a little, though he let it calm back down to it's usual cold snarky tone. The problem was that for once, Finn did actually care. It was not common for him to get so easily riled up that he let his emotions slip. It bothered him that somebody who was, or had been, perfectly healthy was apparently now just going to slip away because even without her weapon, the island wouldn't let go of her. She didn't need to be here. She could have been sent away. The only thing that made sense to him anymore was that they were making an example of her.

Don't sass the leadership, or we'll burn out your eye. Don't be reckless and lose your weapon, or we'll let you die.

He accepted this, whether or not it was the truth of the matter, and with a couple of deep breaths to soothe his rankled nerves, he let her words wash over him like water off of a ducks back. None of it stuck. He didn't actually give two shits about what here opinion was. "You don't know what you're talking about." His worst nightmare? He still to date hadn't told anybody what he'd experienced in his head at Cael's doing. Nevada could assume all she wanted but that was one memory he wasn't sharing with anybody, and least of all to her.

So he smirked, and took a step back, the cold glint in his eye taking over, locking his emotions down. "You did do it, Nevada. Take some responsibility for your actions. Next you'll be telling me your mom and dad were the ones that sent you here, and you didn't decide to come on your own." And they had all known the risks, hadn't they? They knew that their life expectancy was short.

But it had been easy for Finn to throw his life away for this. The life he'd built around himself had all been material. There was nobody for him to leave behind. Nobody that mattered. "You signed up, and you led yourself down this path." He glanced down to the chain on the ground.

If she showed herself to still be useful, would they do something to help her, he wondered?

"Now you're a stupid b***h, but that doesn't mean you deserve this. Pick the damn chain back up. I'll show you how to swing it around properly."

He cocked his head to the side, just slightly, at her question, as stony faced and cold eyed as ever. He shrugged off her murmured words, which to him sounded almost like a plea for him to stop, stop insulting, stop telling her things she likely didn't want to hear anymore. Except she never directly told him to stop, and even if she had he probably wouldn't have listened anyways.

"How do you not know how to swing a damn chain?" Was his response, giving his head a small shake. Because really, it wasn't like rocket science or anything!

"I grew up on a farm. I was taught things. But this just...what do you want to do, hold it in one hand and swing it around or what? Throw it at something?" He made no move to actually take it from her. It was obviously runic, and he wasn't sure he was even allowed to touch it considering he hadn't done the training necessary to get one for himself.

He was at least, grudgingly, willing to help in what way he could, however.