Feeling left his extremities a long time ago, and even though the rush of cool, fresh air is welcome, as well as (surprisingly) Jason's help getting out of the suitcase, and once he's free of the confining space, he stretches painfully and slowly while a variety of other things go on above and around him. Some concern him, like that vicious kick that renders him speechless and breathless by merit of coming so close to the tender whip-wheals. Some, like whatever Jason has to say to Peggy, do not, and as the blood and sensation rushes back into his cramped limbs, he focuses on the scent of the grass, slowly counting these brief seconds he's been afforded for the purpose of recovery.

He cranes his head back; it looks like an embrace. The kink in his neck prevents him from staring too long.

At the prompting of the coyote, he wills his cramped and aching legs to hold his weight and staggers to his feet, knowing that the journey will be long and difficult from this point forward but hopefully worth it in the end.