In broad daylight, denial emboldens him. He stutters in his step, biding his time before he barters a shrug, poorly fabricated. "What's there to share?"

He seems, somehow, to gain courage and strength as he assembles his thoughts. As if it is only be speaking them that he believes them. "I'm fine. I'm really... I'm well."

He's alive. Bruised, a little worse for his wear, but ultimately hardly tattered by last night's excursion.