[The lighters are going to be harder to find. The working ones particularly. But it's his foolish mistake in assuming clothes would be a higher priority for her than books. Maybe he'll get it in time.

He notices the way she seems to lose her color, not paling per se, but almost fading in the light. He gives a glance around at the world and he supposes he can't blame her.

The question feels a little delayed. He takes his own time before answering.]

... Place I'm... meant to be... Have a letter... Making my way... bit by bit... But sometimes just... stopping places... that seem nice... or... where people... need help...

[He shrugs his shoulders.]

What about... you...?