The sun is still up and painting everything in red and oranges when he blinks in the light of the open door and looks down at Clementine, the reflecting light making the ginger tones in his hair look redder than usual. His face wears a smile, and his hands hold a bag. "Wouldn't miss a date with the best neighbor I've ever had," he replies in greeting.

Then his gaze transfers to the bandage on her shoulder. Hard to miss, that. Injuries have a way of standing out in the worst way when worn by the young.

He sighs instead of fusses, like the sight of her merely confirms something he'd feared. "A souvenir from home?"