And Tuathal just happened to be one of those rabbits, or one of those leaves - or probably neither, but he was a noise. His rendezvous with the Redhawks was as it was, and he found himself left to settle in the aftermath (whatever that was). Presently, he hunted, but hunting came hard when the bright glow of flames passed through the trees just stretches from where you roamed.

If he'd been more of a delinquent he'd have planned an ambush of some sibling-like nature, but as things were, he was Tuathal. The thought didn't even cross him, and instead, he tried to get to his sister as quick and as harmless as he could. Which was hard when the foliage made such a tangle, and he grunted and snapped through the twisting branches before getting fed up and simply calling, "Hey! Wait up!" to get her attention, not yet cluing into the prickling atmosphere that cracked around her.

He shoved through the last leg of trees, a mutter to his breath and a clench to his teeth, until he shoved a bit too hard and found himself crashing through the tight swath of branches and stumbling to an unrefined sprawl on the ground before his sister, plant debris everywhere. Like the world couldn't give him a break. Decimated plant life clung to every inch of him, and he spat a few very unfortunate leaves from his mouth before swiping his tongue around to rid his teeth of the flavour of dirt. Ugh. At least this was someone he didn't have to impress

"Oh, just hunting," he replied, and raised his foot to pick at his ear, to get out whatever plant-gunk had gotten in there. Yuck. He didn't even want to think about that - so he didn't. His thoughts instead drifted over her question - or more, the tone of it - and the more he thought of it, the more unsettled her tone left him feeling, until his scratching slowed and he eased his leg entirely. "You sound different." He turned to face her, his eyes already shifted to peer through a furrowed squint. He had seen his sister at her worst, and try as she might to hide things from him, something was iffy today. "What's up?"

Though his brow still fixed with a pensive furrow, Tuathal turned when Ceara reached to clean behind his ear - welcome to her help, and hoping to make the job easier for her. He watched the ground, but he considered his sister. Despite the tough exterior, Tuathal knew she had a heart not unlike his own. Easy to stab, when the guards were lowered. Easy to hurt. And o o o h boy, you N O T want to hurt her when he was around - and good thing she hadn't given this 'not-even-girlfriend' a name...

No. Tuathal closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, and exhaled, to settle into his practised pattern of internal cooling while she spoke. No, no. Ceara didn't need him flying off the handles right now. That would probably only make things worse. Not that he was ever going to be much of a help anyway. Tuathal had about a worm's breadth experience regarding friends and sort-of-friends and not-even-girlfriends - if even that. Actually, worms probably would've been more helpful, but he was here, and worms were not, and honestly, he didn't want worms helping his sister anyway. That was his job - so he would just need to listen, stay calm, and do his best.

So he paused. Considered. Turned his head to look as if he stirred deep in a vat of a vast many thoughts... when actually, his thought-helpers were simply screaming murder at the lack of pencils they could use to scrawl their sage advice across his mind. The canvas stayed blank, and so did his tongue. Okay, fine. Guess he'd be flying solo in this one - a g a i n - thanks brain.

"See, that's why I don't do friends," was basically his best. But - Ceara was his friend, and he caught himself and stuttered as he doubled back to try and correct himself before he made her think she was not, "Well, I mean you're my friend - my best - or, well, whatever - but - you're my sister, so you don't count." Oh geez, that didn't sound like it would help either. "Well, anyway - I mean, you do friends well. Like, really well. I don't really know what a coma is - " but if a just-friend and not a healer was allowed to visit the invalid on his sick-bed, the guy was past the point of contagion anyway, and didn't need a gatekeeper, right? - "but sick friends visit sick friends, right? Just because someone gets angry at you for doing something, doesn't mean that that something you did was wrong - " Right? His thought-helpers still couldn't find their pencils, so finally he just shrugged a conclusion to cover up the fact he just really hoped he was actually, you know. Helping.