Sun Mote Copse Comanche

The way she responded to his voice made him feel betrayed and dismayed. She wasn't stopping to wait for him to catch up so they could carry on together- her small frame had clenched, as though the joints had suddenly frozen together, disabling any movement in a sudden, almost painful-looking jerk. It wounded him to see her flinch and obey, like a pup who'd been grbbed by the scruff so they couldn't run away any further. He frowned when she refused to look at him, and then tried to dismiss him- even though she did so politely. And rather than wanting to hang out with him, she was looking for the mousy Avery. 

"You not feelin' so good?" He asked, a bit warily. He knew his mother could get quite defensive if her stomach was upset, or if she was just feeling off, so he felt a bit timid asking about her well-being, knowing from experience that women could sometimes lash out when injured or ill. "I...Dunno where Avery is...But I c'n help you find her. 'F you're not feelin' good, you shouldn't just be wandering around alone," He said, a tinge of criticism edging into his concerned voice.