Tim nods, keeping up with Martin easily enough and watching the cautious, nervous way that he moves through the camping woods and back into town, and even through town as well. For his part, Tim is fleet foot but not exactly foolhardy. He doesn't know where he's going, so there's no sense getting ahead, even if his natural confidence (and need to appear confident) has the better of him.

"It's weird, right?" He shrugs. "Well, of course it is. I--I'm aware of death, the becoming of being dead, but not...any of the rest of it. And then there was the fuck off deer, waking up here, all of that. So it's just...it's weird, you know?"

He doesn't want to talk about being dead, because there's nothing to say. Maybe it's his own agnosticism at work, but who really knows. Maybe tonight's not the night for some sort of religious existentialism.

"So I spent most of the day looking for the edges of everything. Trying to figure out how to get the best way out and get back to England, as if I could."