[ The field is, objectively, gross. Eddie doesn't seem to notice how their steps squish, her own heavy boots more than enough protection for her as they walk over to the first aid tent, her hand still absently curled around Tommy's wrist until he says something to her and she registers his presence again.

She squeezes his arm apologetically before letting him go, wringing her hands together instead, fiddling with the rings she wears and the bracelets that circle her own wrists. ]

I just know better than to say no to Stevie when she's in Mom Mode. [ She lifts her hand to absently touch the back of her head, wincing when her fingers make contact. Yep. That'll definitely be a nice goose egg in no time. ] She's had, like, eight concussions. She doesn't mess around with head injuries.

[ She turns to look at him, squinting a little against the misting rain, and eyes his neck. ] You good?