Ford's brows furrowed. He could recognize the signs that Cash was starting to freak out about this, but he still couldn't figure out why this, out of everything they'd talked about since the dementor had first appeared in April. He'd seemed to be taking things as well in stride as anyone could, in his circumstances, and now he was getting hung up on a conversation that Ford had that had been essentially just that: a conversation. With a human. Of course there was the layer of urgency that he had to get out before the moon came up, which was why he'd had to leave the wardrobe in a less than ideal location in the first place, but it wasn't as though being in the woods for that period of time had been dangerous. Cash's reaction had him a little nervous, though: should he have been more concerned about it? He hadn't reported the incident to the Werewolf Capture Unit, but maybe he should have. The redhead had helped him with the wardrobe, though, so he didn't want to necessarily see him thrown in prison, or anything — and besides, what excuse would he give to the Werewolf Capture Unit for why he'd been lurking in the middle of the Forest at nearly moonrise?

"But I did make it," he pointed out in a level tone. "So it's fine. I'm fine. Alright?"

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