There's another of those long silences, long enough that Alain's cigarette is burnt down almost to his fingers when he stubs it out and says quietly, "I don't know. There's pieces I'm missing. I'd know more about Bert's sojourn here, and about... there are other things." He flicks the cigarette butt after Roland's, closing his eyes. "Done for now, I think, if you'd have it so. There's much I need to know, but I'm not so sure there's enough of me to know it right now."

Looking back over at Roland, he manages a little smile. He's tired as he's rarely been, bone-weary in a way that has nothing to do with sleep. That nagging absence of the Touch is itching at the inside of his skull, making him feel like a man among ghosts, and the smoke's done nothing to take the edge off his nervous tension (though seeing Roland has helped, a little). There's only so much heavy conversation he can take, at a time like this.

"Shall we go back in?"