Feliks spoke up, but it was low not his usual chipper tone that tried to distract himself from everything, he was actually letting the situation hit him, because there was no distraction now that this horror was brought up in front of him. How could he get blame for a situation his people were innocent in?
He looked as if he was living some horrible nightmares through his head. Too many of his grandparents' stories replaying over and over and those looks his parents always got. Even so young he'd known he was watching people that wouldn't let someone take their life away from them. There was no way any of these people were going to try and do that to him as well.
"Poland was in destruction then..." he mumbled, shifting his feet and not wanting to look at anyone, "trying to get back on its feet and its people were struggling just as harder to get it that way. But, that was difficult, there was always someone there trying to change us still... even after the war, trying to get us."
He could feel everything coming to place with his blame, where things were pointing, and it was turning into a burning anger. His country was destroyed then, just like someone could be trying to destroy him now. He was scared, he feared getting killed, and suddenly this place was just way too small, way too confining.
He looked up; eyes darting over to where Ivan was gathered.
Feliks spoke up, but it was low not his usual chipper tone that tried to distract himself from everything, he was actually letting the situation hit him, because there was no distraction now that this horror was brought up in front of him. How could he get blame for a situation his people were innocent in?
He looked as if he was living some horrible nightmares through his head. Too many of his grandparents' stories replaying over and over and those looks his parents always got. Even so young he'd known he was watching people that wouldn't let someone take their life away from them. There was no way any of these people were going to try and do that to him as well.
"Poland was in destruction then..." he mumbled, shifting his feet and not wanting to look at anyone, "trying to get back on its feet and its people were struggling just as harder to get it that way. But, that was difficult, there was always someone there trying to change us still... even after the war, trying to get us."
He could feel everything coming to place with his blame, where things were pointing, and it was turning into a burning anger. His country was destroyed then, just like someone could be trying to destroy him now. He was scared, he feared getting killed, and suddenly this place was just way too small, way too confining.
He looked up; eyes darting over to where Ivan was gathered.
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