He did, in time. In the Shadowlands he felt exposed and vulnerable with nowhere to run. When the party started ordering him down from taking extra watches he exhausted himself with concealment spells. Halsin in particular seemed concerned with his welfare, encouraging him to rest, which made Clover vow never to close both eyes again. Halsin's entanglement with the Fey made him, in his eyes, his greatest threat. Halsin's want to keep him close felt like a hound guarding his master's kill, waiting for his return. He'd walked in darkness before and braved the Shadowfell when the little thing inside him that his whole life kept him alive, that screamed and screamed to run or die, reached a fever pitch. It ended poorly. It pained Halsin that Clover looked at him with such confused mistrust, that he shrank from him, but he knew something wasn't right-- he was a healer and saw injury of a different kind. He was him who carried Clover back to the firelight and kept him in his own tent to recover. As kind as he was, it was unwise for anyone to keep Clover from him then.

In its unfamiliar warmth was the first time Clover ever spoke of what happened to him. He spoke in the weight of forests holding lost years and spells and a man in the bones of an owl. It all lay about in a half-light, a moonlight throwing long shadows on what he could not say, what he could not remember, what choked him from fear to even whisper.

While he was unable to leave-- due to his physical state and later Halsin's strong insistence-- they had many hushed hours to spend together. It was the first time Clover noticed the heaviness in Halsin's eyes that would part like clouds for the sun when there was something to be done. Clover softened under Halsin's murmured conversation and learned not to pull from his hands. He was only able to stand so much though; Halsin's intentioned touch was overwhelming. It was gentle and mindful and consumed his entire senses and made him want to bolt for the Shadowfell once more. He wanted to cut out every part of him that Halsin's hands had touched because he wanted to think of anything else besides the memory of them lingering on his skin. He wanted him to never stop touching him. He wanted to set the tent on fire.

The warm and deep scent of the blankets and furs that Halsin piled around him was intoxicating and dangerously comforting to Clover. He had to put nettles under his cheek to keep him from falling asleep. It sometimes wasn't enough. When Halsin drew close, Clover was enveloped in the same scent.

It took a great amount of trust for Clover to finally help Halsin lift the Shadow Curse and rescue Thaniel. He began to see Halsin's true heart when he very nearly made the whole world stop for him, just by giving him a place to be and a little bit of care without Clover having to look over his shoulder. Even if he still watched, he watched him differently. He defended the gateway with a ferocity and sense of purpose he could never remember feeling before; that something had meaning now. He knew the thing that Halsin would carry back with him. He did not know what he would do. But the little animal that lived in him that always told him to run was waiting for him, too.