"I've seen grosser," Much said, the casual tone in his voice belied by the sympathetic wince. Much tried not to think about the state Will and Tuck and Stutely had been in when he found them, the gaunt drawn faces, the smell, the way they carried their pain. He didn't want to think about his friends that way, he knew they didn't want to think about themselves that way, and though that day still lingered in the back of his mind sometimes, he tried to keep it well out of his everyday thoughts. Maybe that meant it made it a little harder for him to remember, every day, the ordeal they'd been through.
Maybe if he'd acknowledged it more often, Will might have talked to him about how badly he was coping.
Was Tuck hiding how close he was to crashing too? Was Stutely?
Was Marian?
"Least that's something," Much said, with half a smile. "Life could be worse, you could have a peg leg?"