There's thread in the bag and Raju's pulling it out as Francis finishes talking, inspecting it as he replies. He hasn't said any of this to Francis yet; maybe that's why Francis doesn't understand. If he's going to be safe, he needs to understand. "Children follow the path their parents lay in front of them. So who knows what they're learning in there. No one's arguing for going after the children first, but if it does come down to a fight, who knows what any of them are going to do? Adults or not."

There's something sour sitting in his stomach, and it tries to crawl up his throat. Raju swallows, pauses, takes a slow breath to wash the feeling away. That isn't what he's saying. Not like— "Neither of us is going to go after someone who isn't holding a weapon," he says, face looking a little sick, tone sounding a little desperate, only for a moment. "That isn't who we are."

But his memories tell him to be cautious, too.

"But if it does come down to a fight and you overlook someone who is, thinking they're innocent, you're going to get yourself killed. And other people, too." Raju's hand is still, holding the thread, and his expression is tight as he keeps looking down at it. "If the worst happens, you're going to need to know that."