Green grunted approvingly.
"Nothing wrong with your own company, man," he rumbled as quietly as he could.
Ava's offhand admission gets the mountain's attention. His head swivels round but otherwise, he lapses again into silence.
Turning away, eyes resuming their sweep, he inquired of them both: "Whats the big deal with psychology anyway? We all been through shit. Shit that muggle science can't explain or handle, yeah? Whats the use in talking about it? It happened. It was done. It is done. You gotta accept it on some level. And just move on."
After all - that is what sorrow and regret were for.
Green had once been a man. Now he was the living heart of a mountain. He had once had a family. Now he had none (assuming you didn't count the 'Hold as some sort of strangely familiar club). He had once had a human face. Now that face belonged to a man of straw, wood, and mud. Green regretted not pounding that creature's mushy face into the earth... but his fetch had already ruined everything; it would have been pointless. Green could not go back. So there was only sorrow, regret and moving forward.
At least he could own his future.
His eyes may have been scanning their surroundings, but his words begged an answer. The Silent Arrow were like that.