[The feed shows one of the recent newcomers to Anatole. A slim man with long, blond hair and round glasses. It's obvious that something is off with him: his eyes are unfocused, and his skin is the color of oatmeal. The camera shifts as the man moves, and a glimpse of his neck can be seen: there are bandages coiling around it, and they are soaked in
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You're hurt. You should let the others help you.
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There's no need.
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You could pass out at any moment!
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I'm not about to pass out.
[His eyes focus just for a moment on the screen to look at Quatre. A child, no more than thirteen at a guess... and without his ears. Disgusting, whatever happened to him. But there's no time to think about that now. He moves ahead, back deeper into the Ruins.]
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Just, just wait for the others to find you. You can rest and search later.
[by later, he means another day, so several people can put some sense into him. but he's not above marching out there and dragging soubi back himself.]
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I've told you, I don't need help. Go back to what you were doing.
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[quatre's tone is getting harder. he's only a few steps away from wanting to curse because this man is so damn stubborn.]
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[He hasn't turned off the feed yet, in the vain hope that this person will get desperate enough to tell him something that might help him. But he's getting annoyed.]
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