Brand snorts in acknowledgment that she's not wrong about how both of them are generally shit company, but only by most people's standards. By their own, there's no one -- well, no one currently on the Rig -- that Brand would rather sit with right now. South's not going to fuss over him or act like it's a big deal, even though it obviously is. She's just gonna sit. Maybe they'll spar once he feels less like he's dying. It's...good knowing that there's someone who isn't going to treat him like he's made of glass just because he's walking wounded. He hates that shit.

He doesn't do anything so obvious as lean against her, but he does breathe a little easier and uncurl just a bit.

"...Thanks."