Sanctuary leans back inside, gesturing broadly to Goma and giving Genesis his most disarming smile. “--Aah ha ha - Sorry – I haven’t had a chance to mention – We have a dinner guest tonight! Genesis…this is Goma.”
Genesis looks as though she’s seen a ghost, her eyes wide with shock. “I… am… um…” She hesitates. It seems Sanctuary has the situation at least somewhat under control, so perhaps she has no need for fear. Her expression shifts to a barely masked cringe of displeasure. She manages to finish her thought, “...pleased to make your acquaintance, Goma.”
Goma glowers at her, lowering the rag she’d been holding to her face. The extent of her injury is plain for Genesis to see. “O-oh! Your face! Well… looks like you were fortunate to find Sanctuary.”
Sanctuary squeezes around Goma as if to insert himself between Goma’s aggressive glare and Genesis’s obvious discomfort. “You actually have perfect timing, Gen. Do you think you could find something clean for Goma to wear?”
Genesis touches a thoughtful hand to her chin, sizing Goma up. “Uhh…hm.” Goma is tall, broad shouldered and muscular. Genesis looks down at her own wardrobe, which, as generously cut as they are, might be a strange fit for Goma.
