[ eiden listens through the haze of urges scrabbling at his brain, at his body. he's still flushed hot, holding onto pinocchio with his fingers tightening ever so slightly. he's still a little jarred about his own return, but it's natural for eiden to try and slink back into normalcy or something like that.

pinocchio's words stick with him and he gives a barely perceptible nod just for him as he then follows the line of his arm. there's some concern as he looks at it (from the previous description, rusted.) ]

Yeah, I'm... really hot. I'll tell you more when we're inside...

[ away from prying eyes. it's better that way. he doesn't even know how to explain any of what has happened himself. ]

Someone taking care of that arm of yours...?

[ he will go in with pinocchio, no questions asked, nudging the door shut maybe with a little too much frustration at whatever is boiling up
impatiently inside of him, breath tight in his lungs. ]