Probably not surprisingly, Wrench regards the young man's actions with more self-consciousness than Iggy seems to hold for himself. Despite his abject desire to witness this for himself, now that they're in the midst of it, it all seems so vividly intimate. Another person -- a practical stranger -- caught in a moment of vulnerability and possible hope. It's not unlike catching Iggy with his pants down. Though Wrench realizes even as he thinks it that his companion probably wouldn't mind that very much, either.

It's so different than everything he was taught, though. Not just the devotion to a mythological figure, but the willingness to lay something bare that feels like it could easily be exploited. But since Iggy doesn't seem to mind at all, Wrench moves closer. He tries to wriggle himself into a position to stand to catch a glimpse of what words are being spoken, but it's damn near an impossible thing under the best of circumstances, and with the wind whipping and the light already waning in this little clearing, it's all a blur.

Instead he waits until Iggy is back on his feet and watches the man watch the air. Was he expecting something? A burning bush, or a booming voice from above? Wrench can't really tell.

You look like it didn't go to plan.