He nods at that answer. He's still worried. He doesn't fully trust Peter to look after himself as much as he should. But he can't always be there even if he wants to. He doesn't have a choice.

His taped up arm is lowered down with a wince and a strained breath. But then in turn his other hand rises, touching gently to Peter's face before smoothing back his hair and then dropping. "Do your best, Mijo. Whatever you've got to to be safe."

He turns back to the wreckage, scanning it all until he sees something shine. From the rubble he tugs free his new cane, now warped out of shape. He looks sadly at it then tucks it under his arm, sifting about some more with his food. "You don't see my guitar do you?"