Emberwood swerve to the side, been driving all night

Better is the first word that comes to mind, when he hears the question, but it isn't quite accurate. Sore, He says, finding that closer to the truth. That familiar dull ache is sitting in his chest now, and coiled tightly around his head. But comfortable. And... I can think a little more. It still hurts. He swallows, then adds, I don't remember much about last night. Or... before that. But I know you're safe, and that's what matters right now. He keeps that part to himself.