[You might hear the sound of a child sobbing if you pass this way, fellow transports. The crying comes from a young girl, maybe 4 or 5, dark skinned and too old to belong to the pale blond teenager she's clinging to anyway. She has chubby baby cheeks and enormous eyes, and tears and snot are running down her tiny face. She's clinging tightly to someone around a decade older than she is, but a little too young to be her father.
The teenager isn't crying. He's a skinny kid, but he looks like he might be tallish if he stood up. He doesn't stand up, though. He hardly even blinks. He's holding the little girl gently, but staring past her at the window view, where the bomb went off a few hours ago. Just...staring. And he's been that way for a good long while now. He's probably not totally okay.]
Open...if anyone wants to help with a baby or something idek.
The teenager isn't crying. He's a skinny kid, but he looks like he might be tallish if he stood up. He doesn't stand up, though. He hardly even blinks. He's holding the little girl gently, but staring past her at the window view, where the bomb went off a few hours ago. Just...staring. And he's been that way for a good long while now. He's probably not totally okay.]