Β Β Β Β Β In the days since Troy of all people had stepped foot in Richmond with his injury, Sarah had remained relatively distant and somewhat more withdrawn than she already was. It had seemed that up until this point Troy had been doing much of the same, so the fact that she was surprised when he called her over was a slight understatement. She hesitated for a few short moments before slowly and carefully putting away the brush sheβd been using to groom Shadowfax, giving her a small pet on the nose as she shuffled over to the man. He was only one out of quite a few people she stood a good distance from when speaking to them; she could never be too CAREFUL,Β after all.
Β Β Β Β Β Β βYeah? Um, what is it, Troy?β
Ugh. This was uncomfortable - and when things were uncomfortable, Troy tended to get angry, as was his default emotion.Β
But... the truth was that he probably wouldnβt be alive if this community hadnβt taken mercy on him, and then if he hadnβt been patched up - which... unfortunately, put him in Sarahβs debt. And Troy hated owing a favor and not being able to repay it; from past experience, that only spelled trouble. Bill was pretty vocal about all that, about not giving something without asking for something in return - hence, Troyβs little βfavorsβ with the particularly hot prisoners. The give-and-take system just worked.Β
Regardless. Troy needed to know the little shitβs game, what Sarah or David or anyone in particular expected from him. So far, theyβd left him to recover on his own, not allowing him a gun in the community (yet?) but keeping him safe inside fortified walls. There had to be an ulterior motive at play here, and maybe he could squeeze the truth out of Sarah.
When said brat hesitantly approached him, he tried to wipe the instinctive glare from his face.Β
βYou -- the, the other day, yβ... patched me up,β he started, very much pointing out the obvious.Β βUm. Yeah. So. Yβ did that. For me.β He nodded again, brows scrunching down in frustration. Why couldnβt he just fucking say it?