He follows Ginsberg out of the store, letting out an all-too-transparent huge sigh of relief when the door swings shut behind him. At least it's something he doesn't need to make excuses for; Ginsberg isn't the sort of person to poke fun at his masculinity because he isn't comfortable being around dead animals. Of course, the amusing part of it is that, if it weren't for the chance of his secret being exposed, Ned wouldn't be all that bothered. He's used to death, has lost the ability to be shocked or nauseated by things that would alarm strong-stomached men.

"Well... that was eventful," he comments, with a little, relieved laugh. Ned allows himself one last shiver, jittery and tense after that close call, before he joins Ginsberg in walking the opposite direction from the way his dad had been going. "Not to pressure you at all or imply anything but I'm just curious, does your father even know I exist? Not... obviously, you haven't told him about... but I didn't know if you'd mentioned me."

Out of the frying pan and into the fire of awkwardness.