[ They find themself overwhelmed all over again by the abruptness of the man's kind offers (orders?) — and they're starting to feel badly that they'd ever started writing him off as a total battle freak. Well... that part is probably still true? But they're not very picky when it comes to those that would show them kindness, so they find they mind that part less and less, in a strange way. That doesn't stop them from feeling badly that they're likely something of a burden to him, if he's thinking of looking out for them so much. Melted in with the warming embrace of gratitude is a persistent feeling of prickly guilt. ]

Ragnarok is... we're partners, so it's complicated... [ Nothing can be done about their situation, and the ire that comes from his behavior typically ends up aimed at them. It's just the way of things - they've gotten used to it. So they don't even consider blaming him for a moment. There's an avoidant nature about the way they talk about him - like they've resigned themself to his "bigmouthed" disruptions. ] He says that he couldn't have known there would've been a competition like this.

[ They two of them can't afford more blood loss, so he doesn't make an appearance, but Crona can convey his thoughts well enough, still hesitating to reach out for that hourglass. Their hand lifts a bit from the wound, but hovers awkwardly mid air, closing into a fist about half-way to the container of sand. Normally, they'd outright refuse, out of sheer shame and unwillingness to indebt themself (or get close, for that matter) to anyone. But (un)surprisingly, being told to do something rather than asked makes it harder to question. ]

Some was taken, but... can you really give this to me? I don't have anything to give back to you...