Taco bell? Really? Of all fucking places? At this point the tall man might as well have microwaved chicken and rice, it would’ve been healthier. Sorrel could tell this… Cricket? Ironic name, isn’t it? worked out, so… why not fuel his body better?? Surely it’d give him more energy. 

Sorrel followed close behind Cricket, leaving the food container gently by a trash can. He knew he wasn’t going to finish it, anyways. Someone, or something, else could have it. He wasn’t going to make them dumpster dive for it. 

“I’ve… actually never eaten there, before,” Sorrel said. It was true! He didn’t want to eat the fucking plastic that was the entirety of Taco Bell food, and he could make better versions of everything at home. It’s— it’s okay! He didn’t have to eat there. He wasn’t hungry, anyways. Why was he following this stranger, again? He held himself, crossing his arms as he walked. As much as the feathered stick of a man tried to hold his tongue, he just felt some anxious need to fill the silence. 

“Firefighting’s dangerous, takes a lot of work,” Sorrel mumbled, more to himself than to the giant a few steps in front of him. “‘Least you’re doing it in the states, though— I’ve seen a few cases in South Korea, the government’s corrupt there to the point of just givin’ their firefighters a like.. 25k salary and raincoats instead of real fire protection. There was a whole scandal there, too— took the idiot in the blue house 6, I think, firefighter deaths in a single night, n’ public outrage because of that, to actually properly supply the firefighters there.” 

Oh. Oh what the FUCK was that tangent? Why would he talk about that? What the fuck? What the [i]fuck,[/i] Sorrel??? Why is he LIKE this? Sorrel undid his half-up bun after a few seconds of awkward silence, and tried his damn best to hide his face in his green and blonde dreads. What the fuck?