The Hulk finds a quiet spot and sits. He's sweating, and he's still hurting from all that anger; once it stops making him stronger, once it starts to wear off, it just makes him tired. He winces and starts to brace himself for a fight when he hears someone call his name, and he even snarls, preparing to get up. Then recognition filters in.

It's hard for him to be stealthy; the ground shakes when he gets up and comes closer, though he hangs back, suspicion coloring his expression.

"What?"