And then disappeared, if that woeful look on Woola's face is anything to go by.

Curtis lets out a long, long sigh, plants his hand in the mud, and heaves himself back up. Edgar isn't hurt. Wherever he is, he isn't hurt. He's just...going to have to be grateful for that, for now.

He scrubs his muddy palm against the top of his thigh, cleaning off as much of the gunk as he can, and doesn't look at Dejah.