[ A glance up, and then something of a double-take. The Judge gives a small nod. He doesn't mind helping. This newcomer is clearly not incapable, but the odds are stacked against him, and further still for not knowing.
Gathering the shirt to himself so as not to drag it on the ground, he turns a little as though turning his back to the other and leans to pick up a twig close by. In the dirt, text facing Armin so as to be legible to him, he writes 'the judge'. After turning to face Armin again, the Judge points to the writing, and then to himself. ('The Judge' is hardly a normal name, after all.) ]
no subject
Gathering the shirt to himself so as not to drag it on the ground, he turns a little as though turning his back to the other and leans to pick up a twig close by. In the dirt, text facing Armin so as to be legible to him, he writes 'the judge'. After turning to face Armin again, the Judge points to the writing, and then to himself. ('The Judge' is hardly a normal name, after all.) ]