Even with his thoughts so completely focused on his boy, Robin still watches her, captivated by how diligently and efficiently she works. He's only just met her but with her singular focus on the needs of everyone around her, he has the distinct feeling she's the type of person who won't accept help herself easily. Perhaps he's wrong, but the sort of people who do so much for others so rarely think of themselves and their own needs. If that's true, he'll be keeping an eye on her, helping her when he can, when Roland is more on the mend.

For the time being, Robin appreciates that answer. He's grateful for their help, but as desolate as their land has become, it's still home. He has little incentive to leave, at least for the moment. But he truly appreciates her honesty and as his fingers idly and tenderly stroke through Roland's dark curls, Robin nods his understanding. "Thank you. We're appreciative of the help, even temporary. I just...couldn't lose my boy. He's all I have." There's a lengthier explanation there, but one that will have to wait. They're busy, and his thoughts are disrupted by the trembling of the cave. He holds Roland tighter instinctively, noting how Beverly's stepped closer as well. She truly has the instincts of a parent, of someone who always puts others before herself. It's incredibly admirable.

"I'm hoping the same," he agrees, with a wary look in his eye. He hasn't been to these caves in quite some time and though they seemed the best place to take refuge for now, he's wondering if they would have been better off trying to make it outside.