[Subtract three years and Keith would be in the same boat. Angry, ready to fight, not willing to defuse an argument, He's a lot more aware of his own self and his temperament than he used to be, more aware of the way his jaw sets, the little hints of frustration and impatience that threaten to morph into something else. He's trying to be better, both here and back home. He won't be able to be what others need otherwise.
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And stepping up for them is important.]
It's hard when you first get here. [A cliché of a saying if there ever was one, but Keith is a Voltron paladin and therefore a walking one sometimes. His expression softens, and then he extends one of the pastries forward. It's a savory one, filled with a salty sort of jam, with mashed up bugs into a powder.]
Here. It's better than the stuff I brought in that day, anyway.