Cricket's smile fades a little when Josh responds, only because he looks so uncertain. He's not sure if that's a hanging statement, or if Josh is actually saying he's not good, here, and then he goes quiet. Cricket understands quiet. He understands long pauses that say more than words, and he understands needing time to collect your thoughts and make sure you say just exactly what you mean, and not more than you mean to let slip. So he waits, calm and patient far beyond his years.

His brow creases a little at the revelation, but he gives a slow nod, more thoughtful than scared.

"I reckon that's even harder to live with sometimes," he says quietly. "'Cause people expect you to be able to fix it yourself, from the inside out."

He wanders around the speeder to stand next to Josh, and offers an armclasp. "Sometimes there ain't no fixing these things, though. You just work around 'em as much as you can, and hope it don't get so bad you can't keep on through it."