There's a bit of a frown when Esteban notices Romeo must have given his snacks away... but he has absolutely no room to talk. Whatever joy gets spread, whatever brightness they can give these tired, downtrodden people-- he understands. He understands.
He'll just have to bake him a full apple pie, just for Romeo when they get back.
Snuggled up, Esteban pats the little baby's back gently again when they take a deeper breath, but it's only a sigh, their tiny voice still whimpering softly on occasion, but they've exhausted themself far before this. It would be nice if they slept-- but Esteban holds little hope that they might, with everything going on.
Still, the almost-silence is better than nothing, and it lets the half-elf move about in the strange underground passages that he doesn't like, to try and fetch things and make life just a bit easier all around. They don't have long to go to join the group at the seventh exit, but Esteban can't help but fill the silence nonetheless, trying and failing to be delicate as he prods at what Romeo had been up to so far, since they'd gotten here.
Seventh exit is the same as when he'd left it-- with a few people bundled up in between what little spaces they can make up into some semblance of privacy. The children have been gathered up between a few of the adults-- a middle-aged couple with salt-and-pepper temples, and their daughter, who struggles a bit with the unexpected tasks, but handles it as best she can. Among them, there are twelve, or maybe thirteen kids of various ages, four of which have just joined up.
Into various alcoves, a handful of other small families, broken or standing as best they can, have made what they can of their environment, and are now resting quietly in the late hours. By the small area, the daughter is nervously pacing and chewing on her thumbnail, her hair falling out of the high ponytail she'd set it in. She waves the treckers by, nervous and jittery, and unable to be much of help right now.
Inside their small alcove, most of the people are already asleep. The two older gentlemen are slumbering deeply near the entrance, catching what sleep they can find. The children are more messy, piled up in a tangle near the center of the room, with limbs and arms akimbo, or folded underneath a cheek, or a head. The younger ones are bundled near the center, with the heavier blankets, and the older kids are wrapped around, a few of them glancing up when the two enter, but are too exhausted to do much. They make do with coats and sweatshirts as they can, and now, now they'll have blankets for them all.
Esteban taps a finger to his lips, half of the gesture for "silence" so that the SCA won't pick up on it and wake everyone up. He has to point at the blanket bag in Romeo's arms though, as he still lacks an arm to unravel the bundle, though he's ready to take a blanket or two and share them out.
There's an extra two blankets that he keeps aside-- one for Romeo, and one for himself. It'll be high time that they get some rest once this task is done.
Q__Q oh no, poor Romeo
He'll just have to bake him a full apple pie, just for Romeo when they get back.
Snuggled up, Esteban pats the little baby's back gently again when they take a deeper breath, but it's only a sigh, their tiny voice still whimpering softly on occasion, but they've exhausted themself far before this. It would be nice if they slept-- but Esteban holds little hope that they might, with everything going on.
Still, the almost-silence is better than nothing, and it lets the half-elf move about in the strange underground passages that he doesn't like, to try and fetch things and make life just a bit easier all around. They don't have long to go to join the group at the seventh exit, but Esteban can't help but fill the silence nonetheless, trying and failing to be delicate as he prods at what Romeo had been up to so far, since they'd gotten here.
Seventh exit is the same as when he'd left it-- with a few people bundled up in between what little spaces they can make up into some semblance of privacy. The children have been gathered up between a few of the adults-- a middle-aged couple with salt-and-pepper temples, and their daughter, who struggles a bit with the unexpected tasks, but handles it as best she can. Among them, there are twelve, or maybe thirteen kids of various ages, four of which have just joined up.
Into various alcoves, a handful of other small families, broken or standing as best they can, have made what they can of their environment, and are now resting quietly in the late hours. By the small area, the daughter is nervously pacing and chewing on her thumbnail, her hair falling out of the high ponytail she'd set it in. She waves the treckers by, nervous and jittery, and unable to be much of help right now.
Inside their small alcove, most of the people are already asleep. The two older gentlemen are slumbering deeply near the entrance, catching what sleep they can find. The children are more messy, piled up in a tangle near the center of the room, with limbs and arms akimbo, or folded underneath a cheek, or a head. The younger ones are bundled near the center, with the heavier blankets, and the older kids are wrapped around, a few of them glancing up when the two enter, but are too exhausted to do much. They make do with coats and sweatshirts as they can, and now, now they'll have blankets for them all.
Esteban taps a finger to his lips, half of the gesture for "silence" so that the SCA won't pick up on it and wake everyone up. He has to point at the blanket bag in Romeo's arms though, as he still lacks an arm to unravel the bundle, though he's ready to take a blanket or two and share them out.
There's an extra two blankets that he keeps aside-- one for Romeo, and one for himself. It'll be high time that they get some rest once this task is done.