Whitefish River tonight i'll have a look and try to find my face again

The movement draws his attention, but when he looks up again and sees Evergreen flattened against the ground, he isn't sure how to respond. He finds no clues in the words that follow, either — but he does find comfort in them. Sucking in a breath, he uncoils and tentatively crawls closer to the other, and tries to ignore the way his heart jumps. There are many things he wants to say, and for a few beats he's silent, indecisive, until something bubbles to the surface unbidden: Confused? So he settles for that; something simple, safe, something that isn't admitting to Evergreen how scared he is too, or how broken he feels, or how much he wants to just forget the whole thing and curl up with him for the night.