"Yeah," Kavinsky said without lifting his head off of his knees, where he'd curled up. He'd felt Tim approach and, for a moment, he'd been worried that it might have been something, someone that was still thrumming and vibrating from the heat of the cider and everything else.

No, just Tim. And all that baggage.

He leaned his head back slightly and looked up, but not quite at him. "Help you with something?"