The reassurance from Watson finally reminds César that it can wait for a few minutes. "I—I need to still take the things out of it."
He'll hold his right hand still, but he's going to unzip the pockets with practiced ease; it seems to be calming to at least do that. "Señora Storm's—we listen to our elders. She's my elder... she called me Mijo. To prove people come back from the dead here—she wasn't even afraid, it was normal to her—she.. she needed my help for some reason. I-I don't know why. But she did. To give us proof. To reassure us, to reassure me. An elder to a younger adult."
César pulls out the pen and little notebook from the right breast pocket. "Good, good, they're not wet...."
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He'll hold his right hand still, but he's going to unzip the pockets with practiced ease; it seems to be calming to at least do that. "Señora Storm's—we listen to our elders. She's my elder... she called me Mijo. To prove people come back from the dead here—she wasn't even afraid, it was normal to her—she.. she needed my help for some reason. I-I don't know why. But she did. To give us proof. To reassure us, to reassure me. An elder to a younger adult."
César pulls out the pen and little notebook from the right breast pocket. "Good, good, they're not wet...."