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[ His gaze follows the movement of Claude reaching for the waterskin, even as he pushes himself up on one elbow. He's grateful for the drink, every bit of him feels parched right now. There's no hesitation in him when Claude offers it to him, though he drinks sparingly, knowing they likely don't have much. But there's a noticeable trust in him just accepting what Claude offers without even questioning it.

Instead, he swallows just enough to wet his lips and parched throat before holding it back out to Claude, because he suspects he hasn't had much either. ]

Thanks. Everything's a little... [ He makes a vague gesture with his hand, because words are hard right now. ]