He looks at his hand the second he feels it, eyes widening a little at the jerky. He really prefers it fresh to cured. Jerky is usually too salty, but in this moment he doesn't care. He sighs deeply, and slides down the tree to sit beside her, picking the jerky apart, taking tiny bites of it.

This is a long silence as he tries to process the pure rage in him at the idea that she, or anyone, is forced to do a thing like this. Or well... she said she was forced to come back, not that...

"Is it your choice to play this game? In this way?"