[ ... his hand stays there, for a minute. but there's nothing that comes with it like he'd expect, when he pulls away. quiet, for a beat, brow furrowing.

he pats caiman, in the same spot. ] Thanks. Head up, man.

[ his voice raises as he turns to address everybody: ] Nada.

He was moving, but there's not actually a memory - there's an absence of it. I couldn't actually pull anything to look at, so it was a sensation of movement, and lasted for only probably a minute.