[ The gruff voice from the corner almost makes Enjolras jump up and hit his head a second time, it spooks him so badly. The man, scraggly and cast half-shadow from the cave's curves, is older than me, though only by five or so years, if he had to guess; it's hard to say, between the aforementioned shadow and the pounding in his own head.

He emits a low groan, closing his eyes as he turns his head from examining his presumed savior back to the ceiling. ]

I'm getting that.

[ A beat passes before the wheels in his still aching head turn further, trying to process everything that comes from laying in a cramped cave with an apparently altruistic vagabond with unexplained survival skills. Eyes still closed, he attempts to answer a few of the questions running through his mind: ]

...I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but who are you exactly? How did we end up here? Were we...has a night already passed, in the woods?