"Not immediately," Kira harps, keeping his hold in case Ravi decides the squash are worth it after all. "No, of course not, you'd just die of exposure after taking a blow to the head." Something has clearly shifted the axis of the earth, day is night, hail is soft as falling snow--because he sounds more like Ravi than Ravi does, right now.

Shoving into thicker brush rather than taking the potentially-open paths, Kira does his best to keep the edge of the field in sight, to guide them back. The last thing he wants is to get lost out in this. "I'm glad you're realizing this after throwing yourself out into it in a fucking hat."

It's possible he's being a little too harsh, but at least the hand he's holding, the body he's dragging through the woods, is still alive.