[ his hand lifts up when she whips around, a greeting as much as it is a reassurance as he makes his way down to join her. his steps are sure and familiar, those that come from growing up near streams and water. there's always softer patches of earth, or roots and rocks to trip over that've been worn away. ]

I mean, honestly? [ rueful ] We could always be better, y'know. But you went through a lot yesterday - how're you doin'?