They'd finished the memory-sharing ritual last, and even though they've had plenty of time to talk about it afterwords, the weather between them has undoubtedly changed. It's not tense, by any means, but even Junkrat is abnormally quiet, finding that his idle chatter isn't really filling the vulnerable void that was torn open in the process.

In fact, he hasn't said a word since waking up today, responding in nary a grunt or silent expression. For what it's worth, it doesn't seem like he's in a bad mood...but maybe things become a bit clearer when they finish getting through the sending tree's path, well out of view of anyone else.

He brings a hand up to his mouth and spits out a latex sleeve. Given that they're on what is essentially a couples' retreat, there were plenty of them to be found -- even across the stars and who knows how many decades, there's really no moving on from the tried and true.

"Figured they'd give us nothin' but food and water," Junkrat scoffs, inverting the sheath to reveal the tightly woven paracord tube within. He picks at the paracord just enough so he can pull out two things that really should have not fit inside of it within the restrictive realm of physics: a bulky switchblade and a stainless steel butane lighter.

All of the items get relocated to the supply bag at his side, and he gives a cheeky grin to Fareeha. "Always come prepared."

He giggles.