[Lead he does. It's a little strange. He's so used to Cliff keeping his distance except for the bottom of his running shoes, leaving tread marks on his clothes. Not today.

The explanation, which is of suspicion and underlying fear, sets of a little fear in him too. But he keeps it off his face and out of his tone.]

Got it. No one lives here. We're not interested. We're armed and unfriendly. [Softer he adds;] You'll be safe. I promise.

[Once the couch is reached, he guides Cliff down. Collapse away, muchacho.]

I'll grab you a blanket in a moment. Do you need anything else?