Colin pulls back to wipe tears again, thankful his father taught him a handkerchief is a sign of a civilized man.

"I'm not going to--that's not my life anymore," he says with some determination now, choosing different wording from I'm not going to fail like that again because he hears it, he knows how it sounds. This sounds different. Determination and hope. He feels lighter. Freer. Maybe he can be less like a rabbit making mad dashes between burrows and actually enjoy some time lingering on the outside. "Thank you. I needed to talk about this."