He screamed in pain upon having his hand broken. A sickening crunch followed by almost child-like crying. He stumbled back, clutching his hand, his eyes bloodshot from earlier crying. He tripped on that ever-present rock, not able to reach back and stop his fall, so he fell straight on his back. "Y-you c-could pr-pr-probably st-start by NOT breaking my b-body..." he said, shaky. He was pretty torn up about this, maybe torn up about something else? Not that Ian would know, but Q had spent fourteen long years trying to get somewhere safe, where he could finally rest. Instead, as he was learning recently, this was no place of rest. Sure, there were amazing things that happened to him here. Sure he had made friends, and that was part of his problem. For whatever reason his friends seemed to be on everyone's kill-list, and it was eating away at him. He already had to watch his world crumble when he was younger, but it happening again would probably push him over the edge.