"What makes you think I want to talk, either?"

That's exactly why he wanted the walk. He doesn't want to think, doesn't want to talk or feel, just wants to feel the earth beneath his feet, feel the air around him. Not some stifling apartment air, even if it smells chocolatey. He's tired of talking about everything he doesn't remember. The things he doesn't but should, and the things he can't forget but desperately wants to.

"You talk to 'em. It's your specialty, anyway."