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"No!" Wynn blurted at first.

After he heard the rejection burst from his mouth, he regretted the word leaving his lips. He didn't want to come off wrong, especially not to his new friend. With a held breath, Wynn felt himself suddenly trapped. He looked up into Micajah's eyes, a kind of fear taking over him as he realized he had made himself look like a fool. It was too sudden, too suspicious, but he had just did it anyway. Perhaps he could change things, make things better. He glanced down at his clenched hands and even then, he could see the dry peel of skin on the meat of his palms.

"Okay," the Inuk said slowly.

Taking a deep breath, Wynn slowly opened his palm to retrieve the bead and he gave a great wince. Twisting his head away, Wynn couldn't bear to see the look of surprise on Micajah's face when he saw the raw pealing skin on his hands.

To his surprise, Wynn didn't receive a "ew, what is that" or a "what the hell is wrong with your hands". He slowly glanced back towards Micajah, his brows furrowing in confusion. He had expected him to exclaim something, make a face, or something, like all the others did back home when he wasn't wearing his gloves. It wasn't common to see someone with hands that were one skin layer away from bleeding and tearing at the slightest snare. Not only that, but his hands would be dry one moment and then dripping with sweat the next, which made it hard to do things like hold onto paper or even give a handshake, which was sad because Wynn enjoyed the touch of another, a kind of reminder that he was there, that he was existing.

"...Thank you, Mica," Wynn said softly.

He felt the bead drop into his scaly hands, finally in a safe grip. With an unsure nod of his head towards Micajah, he carefully started to bead one bead after another onto the leather throng, trying to be as careful as he could so that he didn't drop anymore beads. It was a quick project to complete and now, without any sure notion of what to do next, Wynn glanced helplessly at Micajah, "Uh...What now?"

"Thank you again."

Wynn watched as Micajah took the beaded wrap from his peeling fingers and as soon as the other was distracted, Wynn uselessly tried to wipe his sweaty palms dry on his pant legs and jackets. Pulling them back up to his eyes, he watched as moments afterwords, the sweat returned, making his hands sticky and clammy. He could literally see the shine of the sweat as it layered his red peeling fingertips. He tried to wipe his palms again on his pants, only to be given the same result.

Then Micajah said something and Wynn looked up, raising his brows, "Uh..." he had to think back and remember what Mica said before he came up with an answer, "Oh, yes...Okay. Are you done? I wait."

He didn't want to make Mica feel like he had to entertain him, that was the last thing Wynn wanted. If anything they would just enjoy each other's time, like the friends the seal and the beach.

While the words spoken to him were innocuous enough, Wynn couldn't help but feel some kind of emotion in them, whether it be irritation, wariness, or harmless concern. It was that slight hint of emotion that made him much more self conscious than before. In a futile attempt to hide the things that must be causing this slight discord, Wynn stuck his hands in his pockets and announced a loud apology, "Sorry."

He wasn't sure what he was sorry for, but, like a shield, he held it up before him, expecting an attack of of anything between Trojan horse dynamics or a gift wrapped box. He knew that it was stupid to apologize for something he couldn't handle, that' just the way things went. However, after going through life where everything he did seemed to have some unfortunate unintended side effect that would ultimately be traced back to him, Wynn developed the poor habit of apologizing, especially when it came to his hands.

Besides, Wynn didn't like how the other used the word "dead". He didn't understand it. It just didn't sit right with him.

When Micajah finished with his hair wrap, Wynn felt his spirit rise just a bit. He looked towards the other, his caramel eyes warm and hopeful, although abashed and slightly defensive, "Uh...Could you...Put in my hair? Um...What you like."

Instead of trying to figure out an answer for Mica, Wynn just let the other's question slide slowly into silence as the other moved towards him and brushed aside his strands of chocolate hair. At first he was stiff underneath the other's touch, but he relaxed and tolerated Mica's hands in his hair, almost enjoyed it. He didn't say anything or make any noise when his hair was pulled a little too tight, he simply waited a small glimpse of appeasement passed over his face. When it was done and Micajah moved away to admire the handiwork, Wynn couldn't help but reach into his hair and curiously feel the hair wrap where it dangled behind his ear. A small smile bloomed onto his lips and the young Inuk looked towards the magic student, his chest puffing up with pride.

"These beads," he said matter-of-factly, "They will make me stronger."

Turning himself onto his knees, he helped Micajah put away his beads and other crafty tools, saying all the while, "Cafe is open, yes? Get us good cocoa! Drink away this cold." Wynn liked the weight of the beads in his hair and he couldn't help but smile a bit when he felt them move against his neck or ear. When they were finished cleaning up and were finally on their feet, Wynn grasped the hem of Mica's jacket with his thumb and forefinger and he was ready to go to the Cafeteria with his new friend.