[It’s a little embarrassing to accept reassurance from someone who seems to be younger, but Basil takes the boy’s hand nonetheless. He hasn’t in so long....]

R-right. [Basil nods, trying to sound affirmative as he ever is—which isn’t much. His hands can grip tight, too tight—and to compensate, his grip is only barely curled.

[Tentatively, he starts walking back towards the stalls.]

Oh, and… what’s your name? Mine is Basil.