“Sorry,” I said, “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I know Grue isn’t your teammate. You didn’t have to come to help.”
Hey, there’s a reason I’ve been calling you “Undertravelers” for a while. For the time being, you’re practically one team.
But yeah, that’s fair.
“We’re all in this together, right?” Trickster said. “You mind if I smoke?”
I do, but go ahead. At least I don’t have to share a car with you.
I shrugged and Tattletale shook her head. He rolled down the window and lit a cigarette, placing it through the mouth-hole of his hard mask.
What about Sundancer?
…I suppose he already knows her answer.
That would be his way of dealing with stress. We were all tense, and we all had our ways of coping.
Fair enough, I suppose.
Trickster smoked and stared off into the distance. Sundancer fidgeted. She frequently realized what she was doing and forced herself to stop, only to pick up something else. Her leg would bounce in place, then she would stop doing that and start drumming her fingers on her kneepad in some complicated pattern. It made me think of a pianist or a guitarist fingering the strings.
This is both relatable and adorable. :>
Tattletale watched people, her eyes roving over the rest of us. Her cheek bulged slightly where she touched the tip of her tongue against the backside of the wound Jack had left her.
I wonder how much she’s learning on the way, about various people.
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