"It's not alright at all," Sarah insisted with a miserable shake of her head, though acknowledging her guilt would hardly help undo what had been done. Not that she'd have the skill or the confidence to fix it even with a working wand, the fog had already quashed that possibility - and she didn't have enough hope to think that this unforgiving darkness had possibly restored it.
Gingerly, she stopped patting the area around her and instead slid a hand over her own limbs, feeling for where the worst of the pain was. "Only a little bruised," she reassured the man quickly, although felt as though some of the bruises from the fall descended right to the bone. It had been more her own fault than his, though, and he had already suffered apparent tragedy enough - and then he hissed in pain. Sarah winced aloud, reaching out towards the sound to touch lightly and discern where he was, how much he had been hurt, whether her hand would come back wet with blood - without him denying it, since she could not see.
"Here, stay still a moment," she instructed, feeling upwards to press his shoulder and getting unsteadily to her feet; for if either of them remained on their hands and knees for any longer, they'd only do more damage. Cautious, but with a brisk efficiency, Sarah began to use the tip of her shoe to tidy the scene as far as she could without seeing, brushing the pieces of glass she encountered into a makeshift pile. "There, that's a bit better, I hope," she murmured, carefully finding the cloth the man had been wresting with and attempting to shift the glass into its folds. Her brow creased, though the man would not be able to see it. "But perhaps it can still be repaired?" A camera, though, was not just a glass jug - so perhaps not.
Gingerly, she stopped patting the area around her and instead slid a hand over her own limbs, feeling for where the worst of the pain was. "Only a little bruised," she reassured the man quickly, although felt as though some of the bruises from the fall descended right to the bone. It had been more her own fault than his, though, and he had already suffered apparent tragedy enough - and then he hissed in pain. Sarah winced aloud, reaching out towards the sound to touch lightly and discern where he was, how much he had been hurt, whether her hand would come back wet with blood - without him denying it, since she could not see.
"Here, stay still a moment," she instructed, feeling upwards to press his shoulder and getting unsteadily to her feet; for if either of them remained on their hands and knees for any longer, they'd only do more damage. Cautious, but with a brisk efficiency, Sarah began to use the tip of her shoe to tidy the scene as far as she could without seeing, brushing the pieces of glass she encountered into a makeshift pile. "There, that's a bit better, I hope," she murmured, carefully finding the cloth the man had been wresting with and attempting to shift the glass into its folds. Her brow creased, though the man would not be able to see it. "But perhaps it can still be repaired?" A camera, though, was not just a glass jug - so perhaps not.
