Casper stifles a whine at being pushed away. Now isn’t the time for that. He stands, mentally checking his body as he does and switching his pain response back on. He can feel his body aches again, but that’s a good thing. His hoodie and shirt are stuffed into hammerspace, but he doesn’t let go of the bulletproof vest.

In and out. In and out. He just focuses on breathing, not how exposed he feels. Not on how scrawny he knows he looks. He’s fine. “Yeah let’s... let’s go.” Bob flutters over to him, landing on his left shoulder. The circle of raven feathers tattoo-that-is-not-a-tattoo is very visible now that there’s no injury. Bob knocks his head into Casper’s chin.