There was a pause, James staring at Tory's hand. He hadn't had that many people offer their hands to him. But the few times he remembered moments like that, it had ended well. Or at least, ended well enough. Slowly he reached out. His grip was shy, weak and shaky as he rested his hand in Tory's. He was cool to the touch, too thin to hold much warmth.
"I c-can't h-help b-being afraid." But he did nod in agreement. He didn't want to be afraid. he'd been tired of being afraid for a long time. But he couldn't help. "I was g-going to t-try to get f-food."