[ A little stuck in her own head, Peregrine softly hums the melody again. It's her comforting refrain, until it is very suddenly not— When something happens, who will find me? Who will find me, when I'm somewhere left for dead?

But right now, she's so far away from all of that. Like floating on a cloud. ]

He died in the woods. He got lost. No one was equipped to find him. He wandered around in circles, for...hours, they said.

[ She looks right up at Angus, with a distant sort of expression. ]

Like Mumble.