"It's nothing I can't handle on my own. A bag of ice would be nice though." Johnny admits. The air is cold on his skin, but it's a stinging, painful cold, one that he can't wait to get away from.

He notices the caginess and decides not to press further. He can respect Reynard's desire for privacy - whatever his reasons are - as he knows the feeling. It's not his right to know.

"I think it might be for the best," he replies, after some thinking. "I've done enough damage. So eaten up with hate I couldn't see anything but revenge. I shouldn't even be alive in the first place, did you know?" He huffs and looks at the woods with a fresh perspective. "I tried to settle down in a place like this before, but it didn't end well. Maybe this time it'll be different. If this is an afterlife, it's a pretty nice one."

One that he doesn't deserve, probably.