Dan closes his eyes as Aster wipes away blood and dabs disinfectant on, thinking of how infrequently he gets this kind of tender attention, how Aster patching up his chewed hands and taking care of his cuts and scrapes is the kindest touch he's gotten in so long he can hardly remember.

"Yeah, I felt them like I was feeling them myself." Which made the rage so hard to understand, this emotion that Dan only feels as a dim glow instead of a roaring fire. "She didn't say nothing, but I just got this overwhelming sense of blame. Like I was the one who done hurt her and she needed me to know it. I ain't felt that before."

Despair never seemed like something Dan could focus like that, but he never had a target or a desire to blame. He just remembers that feeling slowly creeping up on him when his home got taken away, this sense that nothing would ever be alright again, that all his hopes for the future were dashed, that his life was a photonegative now with the sense of security and happiness blacked out. It still feels that way now. He rests his cheek heavier into Aster's hand.

"Whatever we do with these women in the woods, I don't want to could hurt them."