That misstep's done more than just leave Wednesday a little unsteady... as he turns from the window, hissing, the color's gone out of his face. The lines are sharper - he looks haggard and weak in a way that his face had denied a few minutes ago. "This is no place for me," he murmurs, hobbling his way to lean against one of those fleshy chairs - and then kicking it with a curse when his hands touch the strange material. He shuffles over to an empty spot of the floor, instead.