Redsand Canyon I could let you have it

He was curious about just what she could do for him and at this point, he was desperate for relief. He wasn't sure what he had been thinking when he decided to just push through this on his own. It was his most stubborn coping mechanism and it typically outweighed any logic. He nodded but said nothing. 

When she asked him if he was able to move, he nodded again. This time, he could not keep the pained look from his face as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. But just as his coping was stubborn so was he, and he pushed himself to move, though it made the soldier even more grumpy than before. The prospect of somewhere warm to rest leveled him out some. He didn't really have a den of his own; he always just slept wherever he was when he was tired. 

Her observation made him tense a little and the move made pain shoot through his shoulders; his face momentarily scrunched as he waited for it to subside. No, not really, he didn't bother to hide how the question had vexed him—perhaps it was more the pain than the question, but he was terrible at realizing those things. After a moment he added: Relying on others has only brought me pain. His tone was softer, sad even. But he didn't elaborate any further, nor would he.