Northstar Vale not an answer to be heard

Her movement startles him, and he takes an abrupt step back as she moves forward, ears pinning to his skull. He bristles slightly, gaze averting, and he's quiet for several moments. He can't begin to understand why she insists on probing. Whatever, he thinks, I don't have any exciting answers anyway. It hurts, Winterbourne mumbles, then a little louder: When I eat. He sucks in a breath, throat tightening a little as he looks down at his legs to consider the answer to her second question. He hadn't realized how much they itch and sting. My legs are just... scraped. He says, as if that might somehow erase the festering cuts scattered over his limbs. If he doesn't talk about them, they don't exist, right?