His leg? Tidus stares at him in puzzlement, figures it must have something to do with the conversation and looks. One of the pant legs are rolled up, getting his attention first, and he shifts it to get a better angle.

And he sees it, the patch of dried blood; keeps him staring at it in bewildering, thinking back - when? But Tidus remembers then: the knocking at doors, the bumbling to get through awkward pitches to be let into houses, to be seen by their owners and to get them out of their spells.

Inigo was with him. Tidus brings his gaze back up, first to confirm the shirt he's wearing, with its buttons and rolled up sleeves, then back to Inigo. Blank, still confused - but for another reason.

"I...forgot?"

How? When all they were doing was sitting there, taking a break.