[How is he supposed to argue with that, really? Unlike last time, he probably (absolutely) would be dead, had Adrian not come to find him. It takes the air from him, and he stares up at the bare branches above them for a long contemplative moment. At length, he carefully begins to flex the fingers in his injured hand. He can still move them, at least. That's promising.]
Fine.
[It's as close to an apology as Adrian's likely to get, coupled as it is with a defeated sigh.]
no subject
Fine.
[It's as close to an apology as Adrian's likely to get, coupled as it is with a defeated sigh.]
Can we get out of this damned forest, please?