[Fern doesn't particularly care about the shirt. Sure, if he had been wearing his grass clothing it would've regrown just like his shoulder did, but it's only some bullet holes and not a big deal. He can replace it, or something.
More important than that is the state of the tree. He starts, then spins around to face it, sheepish that he had pushed the invasive feelings in his head down so he could focus on Falco, but now that the kid has brought it up those emotions come charging to the forefront.]
Oh, geez. Yeah. [While Falco fusses with his sewing kit he walks over to the tree, making a noise like a sigh, and lifts a hand up to the bullet hole in the trunk. A blade of grass slithers out from the tip of his finger and he starts trying to dig the bullet out.]
It's - it's cool. It was an accident. [The tree is not happy, but he doesn't want to tell Falco that.]
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More important than that is the state of the tree. He starts, then spins around to face it, sheepish that he had pushed the invasive feelings in his head down so he could focus on Falco, but now that the kid has brought it up those emotions come charging to the forefront.]
Oh, geez. Yeah. [While Falco fusses with his sewing kit he walks over to the tree, making a noise like a sigh, and lifts a hand up to the bullet hole in the trunk. A blade of grass slithers out from the tip of his finger and he starts trying to dig the bullet out.]
It's - it's cool. It was an accident. [The tree is not happy, but he doesn't want to tell Falco that.]