"Oh. That's good." None of them seem to be negatively impacted by it at all past being dirty and grungy, and in particular it's matting down his hair and making sure that these clothes will be utterly unwearable ever again. It's weird. Being worried about clothes while trapped down here with a pony and and... someone else. Apparently, his life has just gotten that damn crazy that something as trivial as a favorite shirt is the only thing that makes any sense anymore.

"Should we...?" Try to go, unspoken in his throat.