Luna attempted one last desperate attempt to combat her coldness before it swarmed over her. She explained calmly, hurt by his words, “I’m not friends with the murderers, and the thief said she was sorry and offered to give you back the guns today.” She saw he got hurt, and muttered bitterly, still hurt by what he had called her after she had taken the time to come out here and heal him, “If I was a jerk I wouldn’t have come back and tried to help you. I’m sorry I came.” She kept gazing into the fire, not bearing to look anywhere else.