[ she's relieved to see him, whilst he's relieved to ee her. when she hurries over to him, his posture and expression relax all at once, the tension draining out of his limbs and he shoves a hand into a pocket. he doesn't reply, not immediately; instead he exhales and looks away from her, towards the river. they don't need to get close to the water — it's too dangerous — but just close enough to be able to record the sound. that's fine. that's not a problem, and frankly, recording sound is one of the least complex things he's tried to do with the tablets. it shouldn't take long.

it's everything that comes after that's the issue.

he frowns and looks back at eleven. there's an undercurrent of frustration, although he wouldn't be able to put his finger exactly on why. (concern? sure, but that's not all.) ]

You thought I was going to leave you to do this alone? [ he doesn't exactly sound surprised when he asks the question, more searching. a little doubtful. a breath of a pause, and he adds: ] Of course I came. I don't think it's a good idea, but—. [ he shifts his weight and leans against the railing. good ideas are in pretty short supply in beacon, apparently. the remark lingers for a second; there are half a dozen buts he can add to that, none of them anything he can really air to eleven. eventually, then— ] —But I'm here.