Stretches of thoughtful quiet between them, though still echoing with realisation and revelation like thunder rolling back again from distant hills. Once pale curls are deemed sufficiently tamed he settles onto the log at Catch's side, close enough to rest a shoulder against him, pulling the man's hand across so he might continue to hold it and be held by it.
We are equals, now, he says, and that's something for the squire to mull upon as he absently inspects the fresh layer of fallen leaves between his boots.
"We, we've always b-been equals." In the tones of one offering a gentle nudge to memory. "You and, and m-me. H-helping each other and, and l-looking after each other."
Another lapse into silence for a time, lost in thought.
"L-like when I was in th-the, the Rememdium, and, and you s-stayed with me. Even though you h-hate it there." A squeeze to the giant's rough hand. "And I th-thought, if Ser C-catch is being s-so brave, I, I can be t-too."
Years ago - maybe a handful of winters, and yet what feels like a lifetime.
When he speaks again it is quieter, cautious and uncertain of the words.
"I, I w-was very s-sad when, when I. After I went t-to." A pause to swallow, perhaps still remembering bravery. "When I f-found B-bert-tram." Struggling over the name, the memory of red.
"I th-thought he was a, a k-king. A s-secret king who, who had to stay h-hidden. And, and if he w-was kind to m-me, even when I w-was just a miller's b-boy and, and he was a king, m-maybe I." Quieter yet, as if to speak it aloud is to face the ridiculous childish conceit of it. "Maybe I w-was, was special."
Frowning at that, the arrogance and vanity of such a thought, before he continues.
"And then I, I g-got the letter, and I was f-frightened that if, if someone had k-killed him they'd c-come after you. B-because he was a h-hidden king and, and you were a l-lost one."