He pulls his gaze from the spot he’s been prodding at with the metal poker, his eyes just a little bleary from staring a little too long at the flames. He rubs at his temples, one at a time, and then his eyes, wondering how to broach the subject with Rama without setting the forest on fire again.

“House repairs are not putting the scowl on my face, no,” he mutters, getting up to fetch a little melt water to drink. “I’m thinking about the others, Rama.”

Best to just pull the bandage off quickly, as it were.

He waits a beat before clarifying, because he knows the questions are coming, “I’m concerned. I can’t pretend otherwise.”