He pulled himself a little closer as she sat down, shifting his gaze to the side so he didn't have to look at her. He didn't want her to think he was scared, even if he definitely was, because fear was a weakness and he didn't want anyone thinking he was weak. He was tough, and strong, and he didn't need to be scared of anything. He could handle a bit of pain. His sister would be able to handle it, so he could definitely handle it, too.

But his fingers were starting to rattle together. He paused to smooth them out on his legs, pressing them against the thin fabric to muffle the noise.

"... I can't move my legs," he said nervously, not quite answering her question.