Patroclus could scarcely believe his eyes when his device - a phone, it was called - buzzed with the news of another message on the network he had posted on himself the other day. He glanced over some of them and had attempted to be of assistance all of once, but he did understand that he had little advice to offer when he himself could barely solve his own problems. He was alone here and he was without his Achilles, the one driving force in his life. He felt lost and sorry for himself for the first few days of his timely arrival to this place and then he found himself trying to learn how to use the device he was given, he reminded himself of how awful the past few weeks of their lives had been - perhaps having the opportunity to step back from their situation could allow both himself and Achilles the time to consider the best course of action from here.
But now Achilles was with them and he was angry and speaking of the Underworld and Patroclus was afraid for not just him, but for the people here who may incur his wrath. He had no idea why he refused to believe that he was here as well but he had a horrible feeling in his gut as he grabbed Achilles' spear, a first aid kit and a coat he had purchased (made from the softest material, it truly was wonderful) as he made his way to the forest that he had arrived in via one of the waypoints he tried to push aside the building dread, clutching the spear close to his chest as he prayed to the gods that may or may not have existed here that Achilles wouldn't merely kill him on sight.
"Achilles?" he called nervously, walking. He walked for a while, long enough that his posture relaxed just slightly as he followed the natural paths made by clearings in the trees, his eyes widening slightly when he eventually spotted a figure that he could never forget. "Achilles! Praise the fates, you are here- you're- are you hurt? I have medical supplies, just-" he took a few hesitant steps toward him.