For the time being, he's been set up near the entrance to Town Hall, on a selection of pillows and blankets pilfered from the decaying houses on the untouched side of town. He's got a blanket on himself, put there by someone he was too asleep to notice, and he's grateful for it. Somehow, even with the summer weather, he's got a chill.

He looks up at Parker and feels a wave of relief. Another person he wanted to check on but couldn't really manage right now. "Parker. You made it."

There's an ocean of relief in the words. He shivers a little, and then remembers with a twist of regret that the flower house is gone, along with all the progress he was making to the garden house on King. He closes his eyes for a second, trying not to be heartbroken about the latter. He's alive. His people are alive. That's the most important thing right now.

"I'm sorry you lost the flower house," he says quietly, for lack of a better thing to call it. "Once I'm up and around, maybe we can turn one of the rooms in the Town Hall or the school into a new one."