[ Reiner scoffs, wiping the last of the sand from his face. His heart is still pounding, his shoulders tense, impotent anger coiling in his gut. He hates this. He hates feeling so afraid. He hates not fighting back, even if he knows it's necessary. ]

Well, he did. I kept a ball from hitting him, then he told me to take his drink and threw me. I don't give a shit about his reasons. I don't want him near me.

[ He's tensing even more, residual fear crawling down his spine. He ignores it, flexing his hands before brushing sand from his chest. ]