Water! She could do that. Jumping to her feet, Abby raced to a nearby sandwich shop. There were quite a few people watching them. Enough so the person at the counter was ready to help out without much fuss. Abby bought a water bottle and a pre-made sandwich. After she had a panic attack, she always got hungry afterwards. Best to be prepared.

As she got back to Astrid and Greg-the-mall-cop, she heard the tail end of Greg's question.

"...tell me what happened?"

Sitting herself down next to the black haired girl, Abby held out the bottle. "I got the water. And a sandwich if you want it." If she didn't, the blonde would eat it herself.

"You're a good friend, miss..." the guard trailed off.

"Abbigail."

"Miss Abbigail, would you mind telling me what happened?"

"Well, Astrid and I were coming out of the store and..." She paused unsure how to explain it. "Those boys came up and said some things about... And one of them in-sin-you-ated that we would... Um..."

Astrid snatched the sandwich out of Abby's hands and took a large bit out of it. She actually hadn't realized how hungry she was until she had food handed to her. She was actually really, really hungry.

She took the water bottle and set it down at her feet, sniffing and wiping tears away as she chewed. She grumbled some form of thanks to Abby, not wanting to destroy her image any more than she already had. She'd already cried in front of all of them, for god's sake. 

"Miss Abbigail, would you mind telling me what happened?"

Astrid listened intently with her eyes locked on the ground. The little girl was doing a terrible job of explaining what had happened. While she'd been watching everything go on, she'd finally figured out what the boys had been referring to. She wasn't all that surprised, actually. It was not the first time she'd been called something like that.

"Whores," Astrid provided helpfully. 

She was happy the other girl took the food and water. It made Abby feel better about the whole thing. She was even more grateful when the black haired girl helped her find the right word for what happened. The guard sputtered at Astrid's one word answer to Abbigail's plight. The blonde pointed to the black haired girl and nodded.

"They... They did?" Greg asked.

"Yeah. Then I told them they wouldn't have a chance with any, um, whores," Abby continued. The boys would probably tell the other guard about the injuries. Cameras would probably show those too. "One apologized for calling us that. Another threatened us. I kinda kicked him and Astrid hit him in the back. Most of the group ran at that point. Then the one who apologized went to help the one who threatened us up. Then..." She paused.

Abby wasn't actually sure how to explain what happened to Astrid. Since this was true and the younger girl didn't think the winged one would what to rehash that bit, she just motioned to the bloody feathers on the ground. Greg nodded to show he understood where she was going with that.

"How're you feeling now, sweetheart?" he asked Astrid.

Astrid didn't really feel like chiming into the explanation, so she remained silent, save for that one word, while Abby spoke. She was doing a fine enough job of explaining it, anyway. She didn't need Astrid to speak.

When she was addressed by the man, Astrid turned to him with narrowed eyes. Had he really just called her 'sweetheart'? What was she? A child? That was not okay. He was old and stuff. 

The winged teen glared at him and didn't answer his question as she took a bite of her sandwich. It was almost gone. Darn. She'd liked that sandwich.

The girl stood up from the floor and brushed her skirt off. She picked up the mug and the water bottle, and then looked up at the man. Whatever his name was. "We leave now?" She asked. It was more of a statement than a question, but she allowed him to answer out of curtesy. He hadn't called the cops on them, after all, so he at least deserved that. 

She would not be kept there any longer, though. No matter what that meant. 

>>"We leave now?"

Abby stood up after Astrid. Letting the older girl have the lead now. Whatever had happened would probably have shaken her quite a bit. She didn't want to push her.

"I'll need a way to contact if there are any discrepancies with the video," Greg explained.

Abby piped up first, not sure how the winged girl would react to that request. "I can give you my number. I can let Astrid know if you need anything." Not that she actually knew how to contact the other girl. Panu could probably help with that. There was obviously digital records of this already.

The guard nodded and took down the information. After that he told the girls to "be careful" and went to check on his partner. Looking around the mall, most of the watchers had left for their own shopping and such.

"Ya know, I think I'm gonna get a sandwich myself. Want another one?" she asked the other girl. Leaving Astrid alone would probably be what the other girl wanted, but Abby was hungry and, if the way she had demolished that sandwich was any idea, so was Astrid.

They were letting her leave. Astrid didn't listen to any more of the conversation after that. She didn't particularly care. She nodded her head once, glad to have the freedom to do what she wanted (not that it would have stopped her), so she could leave.

Carefully, she stepped over the pile of feathers that she'd left on the ground, trying her best not to slip on any of them. If she had learned anything over her life time, it was that feathers could be quite slippery underneath high heeled shoes.

She gave one nod to the security guard, grateful that things hadn't gone as badly as they could have. As tough as Astrid like to act, she knew that she wouldn't have made it out of a fight in good shape after her mishap. Avoiding the police had been very good for her.

>>"Ya know, I think I'm gonna get a sandwich myself. Want another one?"

Astrid glanced at Abby. Was she suggesting that they spend more time together? She frowned as she glanced at the mug. She hadn't liked the little girl before, but now... Well, she wasn't all that bad. Plus, she was starving still. That sandwich had been too small.

"Fine," she agreed, still trying to hang on to some of her attitude from before.