How one comes to be in a place is not the sort of question he is geared towards arriving to on his own, but here it is, being asked of him. He looks aside as he thinks, his hand lax but receptive in hers. He would assure her that he's perfectly fine, because he feels perfectly fine, but then again, he feels profoundly wrong, too.

"I remember," he starts, "I remember I was exploring. Trying to get back my bearings. And I heard something, and I looked up at the sky."

Teddy pauses, then switches a look back to her. Faintly apologetic; "I don't recall the rain."