Gary responds with a pointed, mature retort of mimicking Kurt talking with his hand and rolling his eyes. Stick in the mud. Sure, he doesn't really want to push himself either, not after that disaster at the Cornucopia, and there is perhaps an argument to be had (or shouted as Kurt walks into the clearing) about situational conveniences and spontaneity, but there's no way they're going to have that talk now. Not because of sticking to the job or anything, no--because suddenly Tom is gone, then back again, right between them.

If Gary had the foresight to consider his own constant beacon showing him off like Tom's is, maybe he would have planned a little better. But Gary has never been too strong of a planner. Instead he works with instinct and his naturally heightened reflexes, both of which cooperate nicely in these sorts of situations. The moment Tom reappears, Gary is springing away in the opposite direction, rolling further into the woods. Just going to have to take the scenic route, then.