Nate vaguely heard the woman talk about flies and then leave, turning his head to watch her go. Flies. She sees...flies? His eyes darted back, eyeing the little insect on the counter top. It buzzed away idly.

He blinked down at it, breath coming out in little spurts. The woman who remained spoke to him then, a glass of chilly water placed next to him. Considerate. He brought it to his lips and took a shaky swallow.

"Thanks..." he muttered, giving her a slight smile as she went to wipe up the blood from the floor. He watched her idly, ignoring the buzz of the flies as they fiddled in the blood, only to buzz away again as she grew closer.

He perked when she mentioned not kicking him out and he chuckled softly, taking another drink of water. He shrugged when she told him no one believed that he didn't know anything.

"You don't have to believe anything I say," he mumbled, watching her. "It's just safer if you...leave it alone." He eyed the glass in his hand coldly, watching as a fly landed on the rim. He stared, making no move to shoo the buzzing pest away.

"Sorry I'm always here though. It's a nice place. And it smells a lot better than my little shack back in town..."

And he wasn't lying. Permeating out of his little hovel was the smell of dirty clothing, alcohol, and grime. But also something...thicker. Heavier. Like what a butcher's waste pit would smell like if it went uncleaned for many days.