He didn't speak, didn't respond in any way at all really. Though he didn't object when she reached for his hand, didn't push her away. Just held hers in response, eyes taking in little as they walked. He'd agreed to this for her sake, more than his own. She'd thought it was a good idea, a good way to say goodbye. He didn't want to say goodbye. He never would. He hurt, and he was angry, and he wanted his friend back. This place, or maybe it was the world in general, seemed bound and determined to keep pushing him to a point he didn't feel he could come back from, only to yank him back from the edge just long enough to regain his hope, before pushing him back there again. He'd had enough of it.
The party yesterday, or small gathering really, had been incredibly thoughtful, and very touching. But it had made the pain of Much's absence that much more pronounced. He had entered the archery contest with Henry earlier in the day, and winning, though not surprising to him, had been dissatisfying in a way he hadn't recognised. It was a reminder of just how much he relied on Much's constant presence in his life. How much he needed his friend.
Once they reached the small area where the tree stood that held Much's treehouse, he stopped without saying anything. Lifting his head his eyes instinctively sort out the familiar sight of the wooden structure, but instead of seeing what he expected, his gaze took in something that made him suck in a sharp breath and let go of Marian's hand. Much. He was standing there. Right there in front of them, across the small clearing. As though he'd never been gone, as though none of this had ever happened. He didn't dare speak for fear his friend might disappear. That Marian might not see him, and this was simply the product of his own mind. It wouldn't be the first time. But unlike those other times, this wasn't unwelcome. He glanced briefly, uncertainly, at Marian, before looking right back at his friend again. He didn't say a word.