His first week, he probably wouldn't have given a shit. He had his own problems to deal with, and people who can't take care of themselves are liabilities in a place like this. She shouldn't need babysitting--or worse, even a baby knows to cry until someone feeds it.

But he'd been no-one's problem before. Losing time, falling over like someone cut the strings holding him up, locking himself in the dorm. The cave-in had been similar enough: only Credence would have even known he'd been in there, and only because he had some kind of attachment to following him around. If some girl with blue hair could wander around starving, no one paying it any mind, what kind of place was this?

"Like I said," he answers with a shrug, "this place is what you make of it. I like it better when it's a place people give two shits."