The Isle

Sun seemed to sink at that regardless, rays retracting a little again. "I was doing what I could to get rid of it, I swear...." Quieter, "Sorry. I had to. It isn't all clean yet, and--" He didn't finish his sentence. Foulques might catch the way he was already starting to rub the shiny surface of his pants near his knee, a fidget that wasn't as smooth a motion as it could've been. "I thought-- I was cleaning. It shouldn't have-- I was trying to get rid of it, and--" He looked away, putting his faceplate back down on his knees. "I'm sorry. At least it's gone now...? But what if it happens again? I have to keep cleaning; it's not done yet, and-- and--" He left off that part of his sentence again, sliding one of his hands up to hold the edge of his head. "I didn't-- I don't want to start trouble...."