Oops. The wince, he hopes, isn't as obvious as he feels like it is. There's not really a way to hide the way he scratches at the back of his neck. Uncertain. Maybe he shouldn't talk about it. Leave it alone and not keep poking at things. He'd been trying to keep things optimistic, but if it wasn't helping...

But the order (request) is easy to follow. To stand and shift across their makeshift little camp. Sit with her, she'd said. So surely she won't mind a long arm draped over her shoulders. In the interest of warmth. Yep.

He won't lie, though. Closeness is nice. Draped on her is nice.

"I don't know," he admits. "We need to get back. No question there. We're needed there." There's duty. There's people relying on them. "I don't like how out of my depth I am here. I'm learning, but... it never feels like enough to handle what gets thrown at us."

He doesn't like not knowing what's happening to him, physically.