Isn't it lovely?

Max laughed, standing up and holding out a hand for hers; slinging it carefully around his shoulder so she'd have as little weight on her foot as possible. He'd offer to carry her, but... "Well, we'll just think of another excuse, then. It takes a bit to get to the hospital from here."

Max shrugged, laughing at her story. "I dinna know... Aliens have a nice sort of ring to them."

He grinned, stooping down to shove his book in his backpack and sling the black one-strapped catastrophe across his shoulder. "It's no bother." He glanced over at her, starting off in the general direction of the school. "Besides, the whole thing is really my fault - if I was fatter, I would have been able to cushion your fall much better." He broke off into a whistle, realizing his 'logic' made no sense whatsoever but not really caring. "So, how long have ya had your power?"

Max laughed, only a touch of humor in the action. "I'm afraid the same can be said for me... I cannot control my main power at all." A shrug, and he'd forgotten it. "A telekinetic?" He grinned down at her in approval. "Very useful powers you have. Wish I possessed the same..."

The frown creasing his forehead deepened and he glanced back at the girl's family he'd been doing a pretty good job of ignoring until now. "I... I see the dead." He sighed, starting to walk again and placing a hand on her back to steady her. "I have wings, obviously, but they aren't full grown, and I can't carry someone yet." The charcoal appendages poked out of two slits in the back of his shirt, flexing lightly in the air. "And I'm basically immune to heat."

A shrug, his eyes darting over Callie's shoulder where what appeared to be her father was trying to claw his face off. Honestly, all the ghosts did the same thing... It got annoying. He turned his head away from the gruesome scene, milky white orbs staring off into the distance at the almost-serene lake.

Max shrugged, about to something else when he realized she was having difficulty walking. "Look..." He paused, a sheepish look on his face. "My little sister had a knack for breaking things." His face went soft, remembering. "She sprained her ankles, twisted them, broke both arms and a few of her fingers." He glanced away again, realizing that her ghost had been added to the bunch floating around them, not wanting to look at her again.

"In short - I know what I'm talking about, and if it's a bad sprain, it's obviously better to keep yer weight off it." He paused again, turning back and offering what he hoped was a friendly smile - he wasn't used to giving them. "If ya want, you're light enough I can carry you."