Joscelin's also far away. He'd woken in a mass grave, three bodies on top of him. He had died with his eyes open, not so delirious from pain and fever to not understand what was happening to him. He remembered taking his last breath in the dreamy way one remembers falling asleep. And then he was awake again. And hungry.

He looks up at Cooper. "I don't see why you're so surprised," he shrugs. "I haven't lived this long by not giving credit where credit's due."