Her concern doesn't make him feel weak. He's not sure what it makes him feel, some new, warm, ichorous thing in his heart, but it isn't weakness. Even as he squares his shoulders to boast of strength, he can tell she'd see right through it, and for that, he's unexpectedly grateful.
"Folks're busy," he murmurs instead. "Getting the walls back up."
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"Folks're busy," he murmurs instead. "Getting the walls back up."