Yeah, Magpie's attention shoots sharply back to Falcon, before he catches himself and forces it onto one of the trees. The same tree, coincidentally. But no way in hell is he going to flap about what tree to stare at, thank you, Loki.

"I appreciate it," he eventually echoes, feeling each word on his tongue, still not looking at Falcon. "Two years ago I would have..." He shakes his head; time and distance have let him recall the nights he thought he would die of aloneness, as well as the scorn for sentimentality that he hid so well by day. "I would have wanted to laugh in the face of anyone who said such a thing. But when I broke what we had, small as it was, I found it hard to leave behind. I knew it would make matters worse, but it didn't make the fact of it any better."

Magpie had hung back, at the end of the fight. But the time hadn't been right then. And perhaps, too, he'd been a coward. Which he hates. He stares at the cherry tree as if he wants to shoot it with lasers from his eyes.