He chuckled good-naturedly as Sherri mentioned her fable's curiosity. "She really is good at her job as a narrator, isn't she?" he asked, leaning back in his chair as well and making himself comfortable. "Well, there isn't much to tell." He decided to omit the fact that he couldn't remember his first day there, or the fact that on his second night he had moved places while asleep. Sherri seemed like a really nice girl - he didn't want to lose this chance at a friendship just yet.
"I got here and met this man, Bran, and two-" He paused, cutting himself off. "One of his friends, I think, and another guy. The other guy, he was...angry. We had all been in the same shelter, and decided to get some food. I went out alone looking, but I got lost and couldn't find the shelter again. So I stayed behind an old building for the night. Then I walked around in the city, looted when I could." He shrugged apologetically. "Finding food is hard here." Maybe that's why his head was throbbing and his stomach was twisting itself inside out.
Taking a sip of water, he took a sharp breath. "And last night, I was in-" He broke off, cringing and pressing a hand to his forehead. Wheezing in pain, he took another drink of water, draining the cup. "I'm sorry," he gasped, leaning back in the chair. "I'm sorry. Did you have really bad headaches before we got here?" He looked to her, expression worried. "I'm having them now. Again."