[It takes him a moment to respond. The thought of just "fixing" it, getting up and leaving, is confusing for a moment. He knows he's not dying in a dungeon cell, but it's hard to hold onto that when the hunger and cold want to keep him there. He needs-]
[An anchor. He looks up, unhappy, but not so fearful anymore as he vaguely reaches out a trembling hand.]
Please. I- I can try.
[He doesn't know if he can stand, but if she's here to help him then maybe...]
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[An anchor. He looks up, unhappy, but not so fearful anymore as he vaguely reaches out a trembling hand.]
Please. I- I can try.
[He doesn't know if he can stand, but if she's here to help him then maybe...]