Cerrit does not show any sign of unease with the hug continuing on the scale of minutes. In fact, at one point his grip tightens, and it becomes clear he's not just holding on for César, but also for himself. He is careful, so very careful not to let the sharp pointy bits of beak or talons so much as poke César's clothing. He is always careful with the parts that mark him as a murderbird.

Which is worse, to be punished for what one did to save the world...or to fail to save the world and die without being punished for one's failings? Cerrit doesn't know, but the question settles in his mind heavy like a blanket of snow, leaving him cold and lonely and hurting and wishing he was a body that could express any or all of this by crying.

He can't, though, so he just holds on, letting César cry for both of them.