It may be Enver's swooping in to aid him that keeps him on his feet, not least the fact that he's so much bigger than the man propping him up. It feels supremely unfair to simply collapse upon the man and force him to engineer some kind of way to drag him to wherever they're going next. And he doesn't know where that might be.

For the first time in a long time he doesn't know what the next step is. Nobody is here to tell him, he has nobody in particular he needs to answer to. He can do what he pleases, and whatever he chooses to do will be his to own and take responsibility for.

It's terrifying and exciting all at once.

Fingers grip at Enver's shoulders, then loosen again as though he's remembered something important and it's bad.

"...when we did this before, I remember you... bruised."