Kib can't so much flee. He can shriek - he can lurch in the direction of the nearest house and try the door - it's locked. He can amble briskly...
He can break into a run when the snake gains on him and fall flat on his face.
And he can get eaten up.
And it's too bright too bright too bright and he flings his arm over his eyes.
"I - suppose. It didn't feel like it at the time."
Aydanci isn't sure how to say the things he's thinking without being terribly rude, so: snuggles with Kib, pensive silence. That is the way to go, clearly.
"You have to relive the moments where you were not okay in their entirety," says Aydanci. "And - I - was not okay. Am still not, really, I'm greatly improved now that you're - back, but being on the road to recovery is not recovered. I - don't think I can joke or even really be flippant about this subject, apologies."
"Well, if I weren't occasionally flippant about it I assume you would not be able to believe my assertions that I am okay now," Kib says lightly. Pat pat.
But not so much as to delay them. He can look and walk, after all.
I am planning to be flagrantly ostentatiously publicly sickeningly married. We will be very discreet by comparison, no one will be able to imagine I could go two seconds without gushing about anyone I was with. "I have a room in the basement," he tells Aydanci, "it's nice and dark."
...Well, regardless of whether you mean that in the being sideways about things sense or the emotional sense we could just correct him?