Sam can't say he's happy about the suspicion, either, but it's something he can't help but feel. The natural security that he's always felt around Frodo is, to say the least, crippled, if not gone entirely. As much as he'd like to, he can't manage to think his way into optimism regarding Frodo's lack of memory; there's no words he knows that can excuse the loss of something so impacting to himself, and though he values his master and feels loyal and obliged to him, Samwise can't rest for it.

He nods a little when Frodo takes the apple, but says nothing else, pulling his own from his bag and taking a crisp bite. He remains stiff in his seat and keeps his focus on the clear waters at their side. The surface ripples with small, skating insects and fish every now and again. Sam watches, frowns with thought, and chews.