[h2][center] Oswald Connoly- Infirmary[/center][/h2]

Oswald's lips slipped into a half-smile at Sapphire's noticeable wince. "I think he was talking to Emerald about it, but I wasn't paying too much attention. Something about water and biting or something. For the most part, he was freaking out about us." Even only a few minutes after the fact, it was more funny than patronizing, really. Such a simple misunderstanding made him leap to such a terrible conclusion. "Diamond might have worded it better, but I think he was under the impression that one of us got...blown up or something. Jeeze, what a way to go that'd be..."

Flexing his hand a few times to try to get his mind off of the pervasive aching throughout his body, Oswald gave a small shrug. "I know I shouldn't be talking about it, it's just..." After a few moments of silence, Oswald shook his head. "it's not easy. I knew it wouldn't be when I left home to come here, but this is a whole other ballpark. It's like I'm getting tossed back two years every weekend, and expected to just go about everything like I haven't just been thrown into the gates of fucking hell and back."

"Speaking of hell, that's probably how most people would describe where I lived. You know how there are some small border villages outside of the protective walls, and barriers, and natural landscapes that surround Vale?" Oswald drew a small circle in the air with his hand. "Vale is here." Poking at points just outside the imaginary circle, he continued. "Those towns are there." Moving his hand about a foot or so away and jabbing his finger, Oswald finished. "We were there. It's a two-week journey if you've got a full caravan. A runner could make it in a few days if they kept a good pace. Best estimate puts it at about 200 miles, around 320 kilometers or so." 

Oswald sighed. "And my training is hardly usual, even for where I came from. It's...it's my way of atoning for my failures, if I had to come up with some deep, important meaning or whatever. I just don't like letting people down..." his arms were crossed over his chest meekly, and Oswald probably looked just as weak as he felt in those moments, lying there.