Your sister is waiting for you outside. Two armed guards are standing on either side of her, dressed in plate.
In front of her stands the beat-up but very much alive form of Darin. Bandaged and bruised, he limps toward you, calling out, "Marshal! Much to yer dismay, I's apparently managed to survive my beating."
You approach and…
"I's try not to disappoint ya in the future," he replies. He extends his hand for you to shake.
The sudden affection catches the old man off-guard.
Truthfully, it catches you off-guard as well.
You simply don't show affection. You simply do not touch others.
It's strange to you, willingly displaying such affection.
He winces. "Mind me back…"
"Sorry," you reply, loosening your grip. You hold this hug for an awkward few seconds before Darin slowly breaks free from your grasp.
A genuine smile spreads across Darin's face. "All fuckin' around aside… it's good to see ya healthy, Marshal."
"Me?" You chuckle. "I should be the one sayin' that to you."
He shrugs. "I'm old, lad." With a grim chuckle, he adds, "I's bound to die one of these days. Guess fate decided yesterday wasn't time yet."
You narrow your eyes. "Don't even joke about that," you reply, voice low.
Quickly changing the subject, Darin gestures to your current outfit. "You ever gonna change out of that?"