It's a lovely afternoon here in the park. You are sitting on a bench by yourself, not really feeling you're best. Last night was stressful like any other night. You had to try to get away from your abusive asshole of a roommate, and the park was your only option for comfort. Sawyer then spots you, then walks up to you and sits down on the bench. He seems concerned and worried about you.

Hey, little fern. What's wrong? You don't look too well.