He nods, a little slower, and makes sure he has Arthur's hand again. He feels so exposed: it was one thing to be out in the wilds, in the dark and the cold and be by himself. It wasn't like the Dark World, but at least it was just... alone. But now, here, with people, people who could stare or talk to him, he feels curiously shy. He doesn't shrink, exactly, but he stays close.

"How long have you been here, Arthur? Do you- have you found out what happened? Who brought us here?"

It's always a fucking 'who'.