He hears a commotion behind him, which only prompts him to try and run faster until he hears his name. He whirls around, alarmed, with a staff topped with a red wooden bird between his hands. He holds defensively in front of him. He has, until now, refrained from using Flapjack unless absolutely necessary. Today feels necessary.

His gaze drifts to the unconscious person behind him - the one that had been chasing him - then back to Winter, up to his antlers.

"Can I trust you?"