[ nothing quite sobering like remembering that the only home you'd ever known had been destroyed, but he takes it in stride. some of those things are old wounds, giving robby an appreciative little smile as he nudges him back. ]

People shouldn't have to worry about that stuff. [ he brings a hand to his wrist where a band sits, touching it almost absently before turning back to inspect more of the soil. ] I guess it's kinda nice not to stress about enemies droppin' in from the sky or creepy crawlies trying to kill you, but... I worry about what's happening there. You know?

[ he reaches for a small bag and pulls it up into his arms. ]

I'm sure you've got your own things though. Doesn't mean it's less important.