Maxwell woke at dawn, having unfortunately fallen asleep facing exactly the direction of the rising sun. He wondered for a moment about the empty view of the wilderness, with the noticeable absence of the chests, assorted structures, organized bushes and scattered tools that adorned the camp, before remembering he did not have a camp anymore. He groaned, annoyed at the perspective of the whole lot of work his new situation would involve, and turned on his side to catch a few more minutes of sleep. He found himself looking at Wilson, idly sitting near the embers of his dying fire.

They blinked at each other for a moment.

"Say pal, I think you may have gotten lost. Your camp is further up north."

Wilson sighed. He looked like he hadn't slept much, if at all. He tiredly rummaged in his backpack and pulled out a small envelope, putting it down near Maxwell's head.

"I brought some breakfast."

Maxwell sat up, but he didn't take the envelope. It wasn't very surprising that Wilson had found him, seeing as Maxwell hadn't felt like covering much ground in the darkness and he had set a small campfire relatively close to Wilson's base, but his presence was puzzling in itself. He eyed the other man quizzically.

"The decision I made last night was... a bit rushed. I shouldn't have kicked you out like that, out of the blue. In the middle of the night, of all times. Especially since we haven't secured any touchstones or amulets since-"

"I can't believe it. You actually came here to apologize." Maxwell groaned in dismay, covering his face with his hands. "And here I thought you had finally grown a pair."

"Would you mind not being an absolute tool for one minute and letting me talk?"

"Yes, I would. This is pitiful. You're pitiful. Can't you even hold a grudge for a whole night before giving in to whatever misguided sense of guilt led you here to bribe me back to the camp? With..." He picked up the envelope and peered into it. "Honey nuggets, apparently. How charming."

"Shut up. I'm not here to apologize. I've had every reason to want to get rid of you since we met, and I still do." Wilson glared at him, wringing his hands in irritation. "But not like that. In my defense, I can say that I've been a bit stressed lately, and... maybe I wasn't exactly in my right mind yesterday."

"Are you ever?"

"Maxwell, shut up."

Maxwell condescendingly bit a nugget.

"It's- it's just that... ugh!" Wilson suddenly threw his hands to the sky and ruffled his own hair in frustration. "It makes literally no sense for us to even discuss this! Surviving together is the best option, it's undeniable! As a pair, we consume less resources, we forage more efficiently, we can defend ourselves better against any attacks, we rest more and more safely. Parting ways would give us no advantage whatsoever. Yet, somehow you make it seem like the most preferable option."

He stopped, waiting for Maxwell's reply, but he kept casually nibbling at his meal. After a moment, Wilson continued.

"So. Since it is clearly the most rational choice, I'm here to tell you to come back to the camp. Does this qualify as apologizing? No, because as far as I'm concerned, you'd deserve to be slain by your own hounds a hundred times over for everything you've put me through since you first spoke to me. Does that mean you can waltz back in your tent and keep treating me like a doormat all day? Also no, because I'm tired of you pretending that my help is irrelevant. You can't possibly be that stupid, and you have no regard for other people's life. If you were convinced you could easily survive on your own, you'd have left a long time ago. Probably after killing me and stealing my stuff."

"My, someone's cranky today." Maxwell had finished his breakfast and had summoned his usual shadow cigar. Wilson eyed it with mild disgust, probably remembering the previous night, and Maxwell at least had the decency to blow the smoke well away from his face. He scratched his chin and considered Wilson's word for a minute. "...You do have a point about the benefits of working together. I guess I may have not been on my best behavior lately, but that can be easily remedied. Any more ground rules I should be aware of, sir?"

"Yes. No more..." Wilson gestured awkwardly between them, pointing at his eyes, then at Maxwell's, then at his own again. It took Maxwell some considerable guesswork to understand that he was referring to the 'inappropriate' glances. "...That. No more of that. How could you even- do you have no shame at all?"

"Oh, please. I still find ridiculous that this is what got you so worked up, on top of everything."

"Really? I find ridiculous that you could be so casual about it. I'm sure most people would have had a much less diplomatic reaction than mine to such an appalling behavior."

"Yes, yes, the civilized world is fairly opinionated about such trivial matters, is it not? Good thing we're farther than humanly conceivable from civilization." Maxwell flashed a grin to the other man, who only hunched his back a little more and looked at the charred cinders even more dejectedly. Maxwell couldn't help but grow a bit more somber too. "...Does it really bother you that much?"

"I- It's not..." Wilson shook his head. "Not really. Not as a matter of principle, at least. It's not really any of my business. It does bother me, however, if it means I'm constantly scrutinized like some- some tasty morsel, for heaven's sake!"

It took all the restraint Maxwell could muster not to make a joke about that vivid choice of words. Meanwhile, Wilson's arms were again flailing about madly, as it was his habit when he grew invested in an argument.

"Which I'm actually used to! Every single creature in this hellish place is always looking at me like it wants to devour me! Or slaughter me for fun. Except Chester. So I could deal with that, but no! Turns out you're even more depraved than the worst nightmarish-"

"All right, all right, I get it, no more peeping!" Maxwell stopped Wilson's rant when he nearly got poked in the eye by a flying finger. He took one last drag from the cigar before letting it vanish in the faint breeze. "This wretched world offers so few pleasures and respites from the grating task of existence that I didn't even think it would be a problem if I let myself enjoy such a trifling one. But if this offends your pristine sense of decorum so deeply, I'll pass on it. Are you satisfied?"

Wilson looked at Maxwell at length, apparently considering his words very seriously. Then he spoke slowly, as if unravelling a fundamental truth born from the deepest reaches of his mind.

"You have the uncanny ability to sound always, unrepentantly offensive, no matter what you are actually saying."

"I try my best."

"Is that why your nose looks like it's been smashed a dozen times?"

"Really? You are insulting my features now?" Maxwell scoffed, genuinely disappointed. "Are you willing to stoop that low?"

"You said it. There are only so many ways one can entertain himself here."

The sunrays had grown fierce, and it seemed it was going to be another torrid summer day. Wilson stood up and stretched with a pained groan. Maxwell wondered how long he'd been sitting at his campfire before he woke up.

"Let's go. There's a lot of work to do."