[ Wash nods, suddenly looking less stern and more just -- tired. Not because he's still pretty fresh out of the medical tent, from waking up after being knocked unconscious, from a long stressful trek across forests and mountains that they were barely familiar with relying on the instructions of someone who was barely well enough to stand. Wash is just tired in the way he always is, fatigued because of everything he's been through, everything he puts himself through every single day.

Never a time for a rest. Especially not now. ]

Thank you, Tucker. [ Genuine, warm. He knows how much he's asking, here. It means a lot that Tucker trusts him enough for this. And then, well.

Surprise flickers across his expression -- he's genuinely not expecting the question. He blinks back at him, almost in confusion, as if he's not used to even having to answer that before he just makes some huffing sound, maybe a little amused, closing his eyes briefly. ]

Doing a lot better as of finally getting here. [ Tucker will get more than an I'm fine, he's earned that much from Wash, but sorry, he still won't say much in detail. ] Could be a lot worse.

[ He's still thinking of York, screaming as he was hit, hearing him collapse in the snow, York, cold and dead when he found him, collapsed on his side, empty and gone but Delta flickering up to greet him, calm and collected as ever. A breath, his eyes flickering open. ]

Maine really didn't hurt me. [ An upward quirk of his lips. ] Promise.