Emberwood Did you wonder where I've been all night

The fog creeps back to consume him, blissfully, and he spends the journey dipping in and out of the haze, occasionally nuzzling his cheek against the man's shoulder as if to reassure himself that it's real. It is real, he tells himself fiercely — and quite suddenly realizes they've stopped. He struggles to refocus, realizing there's a pale woman — one he'd seen all along, but hadn't truly registered. Then she speaks, startling him, and he presses more tightly against his savior. He knows he should say something.
I can repay you — both of you, He manages to string together something like a coherent sentence, and it gives him the boost of confidence he needs to continue. This time, rather than drifting out of the fog, it feels like dragging himself out step by agonizing step. When I get home — west. Over the mountains. Thinking hurts, so he stops, and decides he's said all he can say. He doesn't have anything else to offer, and he can't promise he isn't a liability, or dangerous. He is both of those things. If they ask, he'll lie — but he won't serve them up unbidden lies on a silver platter. He'd rather take his chances at surviving on his own.