Moonsprout's sobs soften, muffled by Aims' embrace. He initially feels resentful of the Orc, thinking his rage is no excuse to hurt those close to him. But then he thinks of his broken dick dagger, and he realizes that Aims himself is also a juxtaposition of war and love, of rage and tenderness, and cannot bring himself to resent Aims. Maybe he was even right, Moonsprout thinks. Moonsprout's carefree demeanour has unintentionally hurt those close to him in the past, after all.
At this thought, Moonsprout wipes away his tears, gives Aims a pat on the arm, and rises with a sober and dutiful sense of purpose.
I think we should carry on.
Moonsprout observes the cave walls, looking for any natural hazards or signs of large beasts further inside.