[She'd be very willing to point out that Woody's version of careful didn't always line up with everyone else's. But then, she's not much better than he is, when it comes to that kind of occasional reckless madness.

But his confidence drains and the more he talks about the place, the less comfortable she is. This is worse than a dream, this is a nightmare. It's not enough to stir up the old panic in her- but then so long the problem isn't sinking into her own personal well of fears, she's not so easily rattled. But this is concerning- she's lost some of the confidence she had that they could actually handle this mess. Her eyes drop to the sewn line, it might not be big, but it's enough.]

Is that why you got hurt? You were helping them deal with... all that stuff?

[Because that sounds like a very Woody thing to do. His conscience will pretty much always win him over in the end- no matter what. Despite how irritatingly sardonic he could be, he always had a good heart. He always put everybody else before himself.

She frowns- she's a tough goddamn toy, just as capable as he is to handle danger- that was her planned retort to him. But he looks so gosh darn worried, it's enough for her to put the breaks on that. There are times to be stubborn and dig her heels in, but this is not one of those times. He carefully traces a finger over her chest. ]

Okay, Woody. I swear I won't go to the playground.