Welcome to Gaia! ::

"I would imagine. Worst to worst if I happen to hear of anyone stuck without a bed I'd probably offer to share." Not that she had any really idea where she would sleep, but it seemed the least she could do for someone who'd just watched their house getting demolished.

She was smiling down at him again as she carefully shifted her legs so she was sitting indian style beside him. The touch to her hand was taken to mean he didn't mind her toying with his hair, so she'd picked that long tail up to drape over one knee as she slid her fingers through it. "I've only been here a few months, but there are already people I depend on, worry about. You'll see, the longer you're here, the tighter you'll become with people."

This was nice. Their little cocoon of blankets and sheets seemed incredibly secluded, and there was no underlying tension. No expectations, no concerns.

"Survival tips it is." She grinned, a flash of white in the dark. "Rule 1, watch where you step." She chuckled. "You never know around here what might change or when, so it's just a good idea to be aware. One time the cafeteria was turned into a swimming pool. So many people just walked right into it, cause they weren't expecting it and weren't paying attention."

It might not have been obvious in the skin along the bridge of the smaller hunter's nose pinched at his comment regarding forming bonds. He didn't know it, but he'd struck a cord. The last eight years of Peyton's life had been spent actively trying to avoid forming any sort of bonds with the people around her. It was just easier that way, less painful. Her family never stayed in the same place for long, and by the time she'd get to know someone it would be time to move again. She'd learned early on that it wasn't worth it. That it was just easier keeping people at arms length.

But that was neither here nor there.

"Yes, a pool. And not just some little waiting pool either, we're talking Olympic sized." This was a much safer topic. "We had a swimming competition for pool rights. I'm not really sure what happened to it, honestly, but it's obviously not there anymore."

A yawn forced it's way past pale lips, and unthinkingly the dainty hunter crawled around until she could lay down next to the other trainee, rolled onto her right side with her arm tucked up under her head. "You'll also want to watch what you except from anyone in the life division. There was coffee once, that had some very interesting side effects. Physical and mental." She smiled, and it was wistful. It had been Clerise handing out the coffee. Peyton never got the chance to really get to know the other woman, and now she never would. "There was invisibility, body swapping, pathological lying." A soft snort of amusement came with that, remembering Gnat. "Devote belief in whatever anyone said to you. And I think a couple of people buffed up, like crazy steroids."

A warm arm slid over her side and Peyton went absolutely rigid as her face lite up in a brilliant dusky rose color. If he cared to look just then he'd be met with wide eyes and parted lips. All nerves and fear and bashfulness that was so typically her anti-thesis. She blinked, looking down at the length of his arm, and ever so slowly she began to relax. Tension easing away an inch at a time until she finally unfolded her arm so she could brush fingertips against the tip of his head.

A hug was one thing, but this was uncharted territory. Foreign and new, and Peyton was most certainly out of her depth.

She was still blushing faintly when she chuckled at him. The longing pang had gone unnoticed, lost in the shock of physical contact. "Don't like coffee? Blasphemy." She twitched her nose at him, making a face that was all false outrage before dissolving into a content smile.

"One really important tip, on a serious note, always make sure you relay to a sparring partner when your shield is low. If you don't tell them, they won't know, and they won't stop." The smile remained, but there was a quality to her voice that didn't quite match it. Some underlying thread of some strong emotion. What she didn't say, what she was so unwilling to share for some unknown reason, was that even if you did tap out, sometimes they still didn't stop.

But she didn't want Solomon to doubt his fellow hunters. They had enough on their plate without fear of each other.

As he leaned into the touch her palm came to lay against his forehead, thumb rolling over the warm skin there. Soft and slow. "Yeah." Because it was easier to believe that what had happened had just been some tragic accident. Pretending didn't take away the fear she felt for Evan, and it didn't give her back the feeling in her fingers, but it let her get through the day surrounded by people in white coats without panicking.

Maybe it if had been the first time one of there own had hurt her she wouldn't have been so terribly shaken, but it wasn't, and she still didn't know who'd drawn the first blood.

But it was better not to think about it. She instead she focused on the young man laying in front of her. On the warm weight of his arm laying over her side.

On that fact that he hadn't jerked away from her touch..

<He likes you.>

Don't be silly, Warrick.

<Just ask him.>

"It's not fun. It makes me feel weak and vulnerable and helpless, and I've never worn those colors graciously." She frowned, and it was thoughtful, and it was suddenly hard to meet those open, honest eyes.

It was even harder to meet his gaze when his free hand came up to cover her own, but she forced herself to glance up anyways, to meet eyes she knew were much prettier in the light. Darkness leeched away the color, made grey what she knew to be green. "I know what I look like." She sounded sad, resigned even. "Too short and too thin. Breakable and weak." Tom-boyish. Unladylike. Cute, but not desirable. Pale eyes searched face as she spoke, gauging his reaction. Waiting for the flicker of amusement or pinch of annoyance.

That was it, wasn't it? That was what inspired him to be so kind to her. She reminded him of his sisters. The arm that lay across her side was nothing more then the comforting, easy affection that passed between two siblings.

Of course.

<Peyton..>

She did look away then, head turning so all she could see was the sheltering sheet stretched above them. "If my arm doesn't heal all the way what good am I to our division? To the organization?"

Insecurities much, Peyton?

She blinked, startled, suddenly sheepish as he tore all those deep rooted insecurities to shreds. She wasn't used to this. This direct reversal of opinion. It caught her completely off guard and for a moment she wasn't entirely sure what to say.

<You're being stupid.. Knock it off.>

"I.. I'm sorry. It's been a long day." She paused, then corrected with a bit of a nervous. "Long week, actually." Month, Warrick provided quietly, to which Peyton had to agree. The Tear, then the shields going down, the power going out. The MRE's had been an interesting novelty at first, but the dainty Sun was really beginning to miss real food. And hot water.. God, what she wouldn't give for a long, hot, lingering shower.

"But thank you." She didn't often get pep talks, not like that. False praise, empty bullshit, she was used to that. She was used to being humored, but that's not what Solomon was doing.

A sigh filled the darkness, but when she turned her head back to face him that soft little smile was back. She'd managed to turn an easy conversation into something awkward, and she was determined to try to fix it. "Who's a boxer?" Because lightweight boxing was too obscure a thing to throw around in casual analogies.

A little careful shifting brought her a few inches closer, and she slid her fingers through his hair, back from his forehead and along his scalp.

"You've got a big family, and all girls. How did you survive?" She could imagine it couldn't have been easy being the only boy at times, but he seemed pretty well adjusted. It sounded as though his mother had her hands full, but it also sounded like there was a lot of love passed around in his family. Peyton was a little jealous.

A little more jealous of Dinah and her chosen profession. "5'2" isn't all that short." She stuck her tongue out at him, just the tip, before dissolving into soft chuckles. Subtle nitpicking, nothing serious.

Very briefly Peyton wondered what it might have been like to be the youngest sibling, rather then the oldest. Of the two of them, Astrid had always seemed so much more laid back. She was always happy, always smiling. She adored everyone. "I'v only got one sister, she's a little less then two years under me." The one good thing Peyton had had to cling to before the hunters had found her. She wondered how her little sister was coping without her.

A flick of pale eyes took in the other trainee from feet back up to brow and she nodded, huffing in amusement. "I concede your point." At a certain point people stopped being individual heights and just all fell under the category of tall. Solomon was in that category, but somehow the dainty Sun had managed not to really notice. Not in the same way she noticed Tuck's height, or Evan's, though they were both musclebound ex-military, so that might have had something to do with it.

Walking, talking walls of human muscle.

She watched him roll, propping his chin up on his hands, and she gave a small nod in agreement. "It can be really tough." Peyton had never met Judith, but already they had something in common. "It was just Astrid, my father, and I for the last nine years. So I did my best to pick up the slack after my mom passed." A huge responsibility for a ten year old. If Astrid's undying optimism and kindness was any indication though, Peyton had down a relatively good job.