I WAS TOLD SO I BELIEVED / val

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]Truth be told, Val doesn't know enough about this world to make up a story like that. Hell, when he showed up at the end of the tracks, he hadn't even known where he was or what they were like. All he's familiar with is the idea of this — a group of people living together to take care of each other. That was simple enough, wasn't it? Except their interests all conflicted, they all just kept bumping edges with each other. He understands and then he doesn't, because the life he'd lived was messy and not everyone got along, but they never hurt each other. Not too badly. Butch and his friends said some things that cut deep, and Amata had ended up crying once or twice. It was cruel, the sort of things kids do. Sometimes they'd ended up knocking around a room and snarling at each other, Val's teeth tugging at the collie's ear or snapping at his nose. But that was it. That was the worst thing that happened to him.

The people out here... they torture each other, kill each other. Butch is walking around The Pitt with a collar around his throat because — because why? He doesn't get it, he never will. That doesn't mean he can't be sympathetic towards what these people go through. just that he can't make sense of it. Part of him wants to let go of the anger that burrowed underneath his skin at the way they spoke to him. Disbelief was to be expected, and he'd stumbled into some political mess he didn't know shit about. Of course they were going to be hostile. He just — Val's having trouble coming to terms with their ideas about him. That someone could hate so blindly, it didn't sit right with him. (Here he is, feeling that same indiscriminate anger. It's hypocritical, he knows.)

Val tries to calm himself by working on his bag again. It's lighter without the book and the stuff he'd left with Pip, a bit easier to organize. The stuff he doesn't use often goes in the bottom, and some of the stuff that won't break. Jars on top, with the herbs as padding. Bandages above everything else, since it's what he uses the most. Simple stuff that keeps his paws busy and his head clear. It works for a while, everything laid out in front of him. Then he hears a voice, and his tense mind doesn't register the softness to her speech at first. "Am I not far enough away yet?" Val snaps, turning around to search for the person who spoke. He sounds more tired than angry at this point, though there's still a sharp edge. "I'll — keep walking in a bit. Give me a sec."