[ It's that little grazing against his neck that has him suddenly questioning life, the universe, and whether he should be interrupting this moment with a silly little thing called logic. He can probably take a bunch of farm creatures and their death-stares, watching the show like they're kinda mad they're being forced to, and intrigued because it must beat staring at the walls of their coops.

But — no. He's sticking to his guns on this one.

Between the two of them, he's the one who's going to have to hear their judgments plain as day later.

He hopes.

Maybe. ]

Besides, as far as top five romantic spots in Thorne goes ... I dunno, we might be hovering somewhere near eighty. Maybe eighty-seven.