R would be grinning if he had the lips and teeth and jaws for it. He's grinning on the inside. His highfive is stiff, cold, and probably gives the heebie-jeebies; for a moment he feels Ellie's body heat fading into his palm and he can imagine maybe he's like her. It passes too soon.

Reaching up, he touches his face, fingers brushing against the shreds of flesh hanging down in bloody curtains, and shrugs. Yeah, not a good look.

He points then at the sky, lowering his hand to mime the sun going down. Time. He's not too worried about stumbling around blind in the dark, but she probably is, right?