Amity flees the second floor of the library only a little bit behind Swindle, and as they reach the ground floor, when one might reasonably expect her to veer off and find a table to sulk at, instead she... follows him. Amity has been vibrating with a restless, nervous energy all morning, and while it doesn't take a Passive Insight of 18 to see that, one would expect it to have diminished a little bit outside the presence of the Wizard if he had been the main cause and... it hasn't. Gripping one sleeve tightly with the fingers of her other hand, Amity stares at Swindle.
Swindle occupies himself with shuffling the books and such he left on the table when Variel all but dragged him by his ears to the second floor. He closes the shitty mycology textbook and grabs the teacup, hastily swallowing down the last lukewarm gulp and casting a wary eye down at Amity from under a furrowed brow. When she doesn't turn away from his gaze, he places the cup back on it's saucer with an audible clack. "What?"
Amity winces. Swallows. "L-listen. Listen, I..... I'm sorry.... I'm sorry I didn't care about you guys, in the beginning. And I'm sorry about.. I'm sorry about everything that happened with Treya, but I -" her voice starts to shake again, "I'm r-really, really sorry that we couldn't convince Delebean and Ms. Ample Harvest not to... n-not to come with us."
Swindle turns his chin up and to the side, keeping eyes on her, his brow still heavy as ever. "You're insinuating that you care now?"
Amity looks desperate. "Yes! And I didn't... I didn't want to hurt anyone, before."
"Then show, don't tell." He releases her from his gaze, tending again to the contents on the table. "Selfishness happens, but try getting into the habit of thinking and worrying about the consequences your actions have on others. 'Out of sight out of mind' is a hideous platitude. Things always come back around." He pauses for a moment before adding, "Write your mother."
Amity blinks, "what? I- " Maybe she'll come back to that. She watches him tidy already tidied things. "Swindle, it's not just... I'm trying to... I need your help." She glances towards the stairs, her whole leg shaking now, foot tapping. "He said it's not going to bother me for awhile but that's... that's all he said. Everyone we brought here, Katya and Applecore and Ms. Ample Harvest and... it's bad. It's really bad. You said.. you said one day you could go into peoples’ dreams... c-can we do anything? I'll do whatever you want."
At that, Swindle stops what he's doing and holds her gaze again--furrowed brow still firmly set, but not...quite in irritation. "That thing troubles me, too." He gets a little closer to her, studying...her features? Her eyes??? As if looking for an answer to something. "As things are right now, there's nothing I can do. But...I'm working on it."
"If it does get out," he pauses to consider his words. "Some things are too great for mortal blame. Through you or through another, it would have found a way. Suppose there's no choice, we'll cross that bridge if we ever get to it. In the meantime, just keep that little blue gatekeeper good and close. And spare it a bit of dignity for the hard work."
Amity watches him, trying to grasp the reassurance seemingly being offered. Was hoping for something more... concrete. She says quietly, "I think it's already out but maybe... maybe that's wrong. Prim isn't... worried right now. So I don't know."
She pulls a chair away from the table, and sits, her chin and arms resting on the back of it, waiting. For everyone else to come downstairs, or for the next thing to go wrong. On one of her shoulders, Prim is watching Swindle with, perhaps, appreciation.
"Well if that's the case," Swindle turns away to pick up the books off the table and put them back onto the shelf, "out of sight, out of mind."
Amity doesn't have a good response to that, so she doesn't give one.