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Landsverd Teardrop Station

Gladion winced, squeezing his eyes shut like he could feel a headache coming on as Julius and Roscoe went back and forth. (Seeing the latter relatively composed was concerning, given their usual demeanour.) On a literal level, he wasn’t about to have one, but he already had one in spirit. Still, this was some fantastic information, so he swallowed his nerves and opened his eyes, looking and sounding as relaxed as possible.

“I’ll admit, it’s a bit hard to imagine the Covenant’s leadership having no position on the purpose of the group they’ve dedicated a lot of effort into… collecting. I mean, I hope they’ve got some good idea for why they’re doing that? Other than, you know, the power part?”

The didn’t. He knew they didn’t have a good reason. Refusing to take a position was something you did when the acceptable position would contradict your actions, and you couldn’t openly embrace your actual position. Perhaps he was being a bit too aggressive, though. Didn’t want to blow everyone’s cover.

“Articuno made it sound like they did?”
 
"Hatched a Misdreavus, and not a drop of human blood in these robes," Ghaspius freely admitted as he played with his hair strand in thought. He remained uncharacteristically quiet as he took in the back-and-forth between the group, only passing the occasional smirk or frown as both sympathy and uncertainty bled into the conversation.

"Well, I'll say this; power ain't always everythin'," he finally decided to say before taking a more at ease stance. Still, his expression remained more somber than goofy. "Sides, I'm an alchemist. My job is to understand nature, and then change whatever's there to better it. Whether that's makin' materials or curin' illnesses. S'all there is to it."

His eyes looked to the floor as memories of a certain fried chicken passed through his mind. He despised the bird's words, but he couldn't deny having above-average power was needed, at least. What a pain. The Mismagius decided he needed to distract himself and promptly went searcching the room for the book on Victini.
 
"Well, I'm not sure if there is much. Our summoner said that they simply took souls willing to help, and I suppose I fit the bill. But back home, I'm just a painter."

"A painter?" Sam's eyes brightened again. "What sort of painter? I'm not an art buff or anything, but in the Commonwealth right now I hear they're big on Arcadian realism, neo-mythic revival, shellwork-nouveau... and in Novelux there's a lot of really new stuff inspired by tech, I guess, but I'm not really into it. Ehehe, I'm not sophisticated – I mostly just like landscapes and anything that makes me feel something."

She really meant that she wasn't an art buff. She was just trying hard to seem interested. If Andre asked her about any of the art movements she'd listed off, she'd probably flounder terribly. Maybe she was just probing to learn if any art movements were held in common between their worlds...

"What about her gramps? Huh?"

Then the conversation veered towards heavier topics.

“I’ll admit, it’s a bit hard to imagine the Covenant’s leadership having no position on the purpose of the group they’ve dedicated a lot of effort into… collecting. I mean, I hope they’ve got some good idea for why they’re doing that? Other than, you know, the power part? Articuno made it sound like they did?”
"Hatched a Misdreavus, and not a drop of human blood in these robes. Well, I'll say this; power ain't always everythin'. Sides, I'm an alchemist. My job is to understand nature, and then change whatever's there to better it. Whether that's makin' materials or curin' illnesses. S'all there is to it."
"So what do you think? About humans?"

Sam swallowed, and bit her lip. While she collected herself, Julius answered Gladion's inquiry.

"Do humans have to have a 'purpose'?" he asked, rhetorically. "Summoned heroes evidently do, which I'll grant, but their descendants? There are some in the Covenant who believe that summoned humans are not meant to remain on Forlas and have children, that all descendants are in some way a side effect of the whole business..."

Julius didn't go so far as to say that he believed this. Likely he wouldn't admit to it even if pressed. But the idea hung in the air nonetheless – pokémon like Julius and Sam had no special destiny.
Roscoe nodded amicably, and his tail-hand produced a cigarette from his coat pocket, to gesture with. It remained unlit.

"Sure. And you know, you've got a point, there. Lotta descendants out there with nothing special going on, not everyone can be a fancy paragon, and all that. You and I, we've always agreed on that, Jools. But then again, you take a look at those saps in Magna..."

Julius sighed. "Okay, yes, some members have some rather high-minded ideas about the mantle of responsibility they inherit, and so forth. Why are they the 'real' Covenant? Why not me and all my extended family? Why not you and every other normal pokémon?"

'Normal'. That wasn't a trivial little reference to aura type – both 'mon were Normal. No, Julius said the word with a kind of faint envy. Almost longing. Suddenly, the dynamic between the pair had flipped. Roscoe was the one in control, and Julius the frustrated party. There was personal history to this, too much to glean at a glance, but still... Could it be that Julius wished he wasn't distantly related to some human?

Roscoe didn't answer. He only smiled, and lit his smoke. He'd got Julius to admit that other, worse opinions did exist outside this room. He'd won.

Julius huffed, and turned back to Gladion and Ghaspius. "Whatever. As for 'why' the Covenant recruits humans, I assumed Lord Articuno would have told you. In brief, it's partly a matter of gathering potentially-powerful 'mon to do some good in the world, largely to safeguard against the misuse of such power—" here he glanced reflexively at Sam "—and fundamentally because human-descended 'mon, fallers, and so on do not fit in. They need... The founders wanted a community for them. For themselves, in fact. To not be alone."

He fell quiet, uncomfortable with his own agitation.

There were now enough eyes on Sam that she made a few anxious hedging sounds, and twiddled her claws together.

Laura tried to give her a reassuring look. "Whatever's eating you, it's okay. Sorry about all this. We've not had much chance to get good at tact, I guess."

"Fine," sighed the hulking Chesnaught. "Better out than in, I guess."

Roscoe took a long drag of his cigarette, and nodded politely to the Wayfarers.

"All right, I reckon I'm gonna go enjoy this stick outside before I get back to the millstone. It's been real swell meeting you guys."

Roscoe walked out into the gentle rain starting up in the courtyard. Julius' eyes followed him. Sam just gazed at the rest of the 'mon in the room, her expression settling into 'resignation'.

"My grandfather's grandmother was a summoned human. She was a folk hero. Her grandson, my father's father... He was not. The opposite, really. A bandit. Not the heroic 'give-to-the-poor' kind – the brutal kind. His name was Tamuk, and he killed a lot of people."
 
"Whatever. As for 'why' the Covenant recruits humans, I assumed Lord Articuno would have told you. In brief, it's partly a matter of gathering potentially-powerful 'mon to do some good in the world, largely to safeguard against the misuse of such power—" here he glanced reflexively at Sam "—and fundamentally because human-descended 'mon, fallers, and so on do not fit in. They need... The founders wanted a community for them. For themselves, in fact. To not be alone."
"Hmm..." Gladion seemed relieved in a manner that was only partially inauthentic. His tone shifted to be cautious and measured. "We did get an explanation from them. It was a different one, kind of. Point being, I think I understand more clearly now. Thank you."

He wasn't sure if he should add anything else. In the end, Laura and Sam pulled his attention away before he decided what would be better.

"My grandfather's grandmother was a summoned human. She was a folk hero. Her grandson, my father's father... He was not. The opposite, really. A bandit. Not the heroic 'give-to-the-poor' kind – the brutal kind. His name was Tamuk, and he killed a lot of people."
"I get it."

Eyes trained on the floor, Gladion paused to consider his next words very carefully. Trying to find a way to avoid lying and going off on a tangent. "I mean, obviously we come from pretty different backgrounds. But I've got family who... are living in international waters for legal reasons. Less murderous, but you know, not exactly ethical sorts. So I guess I might still understand a little more easily than most?"

He shrugged. "I get what it's like to try to stay out of the shadow of something like that, at least." An yet here we are, on opposite sides. Guess you ended up somewhere a little too close to where I left.
 
Bellatrix listened with indifference but a small challenge in response to Julius danced at the tip of her tongue, one she was compelled to ask just to see what they would say. "It's understandable, noble even, but it is difficult to imagine that everyone would understand that for one reason or another - a dislike of the other or perhaps even envy - if enough of these pokémon banded together, it could pose... Trouble, no?"

She left the question hanging there but her tone made the rest of her question clear: What did they think of these groups and how did the Covenant deal with them.

As Bellatrix waited for her answer, her ears flicked towards the door, swearing that she heard noises, voices perhaps, coming from outside.
 
Sam just gazed at the rest of the 'mon in the room, her expression settling into 'resignation'.

"My grandfather's grandmother was a summoned human. She was a folk hero. Her grandson, my father's father... He was not. The opposite, really. A bandit. Not the heroic 'give-to-the-poor' kind – the brutal kind. His name was Tamuk, and he killed a lot of people."
Andre felt bad for his question now. His desire for information overrode his courtesy.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Sam," he said. "I'm sorry for pushing you. You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to."
 
"I'm sorry to hear that, Sam," he said. "I'm sorry for pushing you. You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to."

She shook her head. "That's sweet of you, but it was gonna happen eventually, and now it's happening. We're talking about it."

You couldn't seal up a can of worms jsut like that... But she did appreciate the attempt.

"I get it. I mean, obviously we come from pretty different backgrounds. But I've got family who... are living in international waters for legal reasons. Less murderous, but you know, not exactly ethical sorts. So I guess I might still understand a little more easily than most? I get what it's like to try to stay out of the shadow of something like that, at least."
"It's understandable, noble even, but it is difficult to imagine that everyone would understand that for one reason or another - a dislike of the other or perhaps even envy - if enough of these pokémon banded together, it could pose... Trouble, no?"

Lucius nodded shallowly, and took the moment while Sam thought over what Gladion had said.

"Ms Bellatrix... You're saying that 'mon who feared or envied the Covenant could be a threat...?" He fiddled with his glasses, frowning, several counterpoints queueing in his mouth to be spoken first. "Well... I don't think they would be, to be frank. The Covenant is well-organised and its members trend strong. Naturally. But I don't believe it would ever come to that. We remain clandestine – perhaps in small part to avoid such 'troubles' – and we don't go out of our way to make enemies."

He glanced towards the door, thoughts ticking away behind his eyes.

"Besides, that's no more an argument against the Covenant than it is against any organised institution. Distrust and jealousy? That's simply how thinking beings are. If not all, then enough of them."

Sam looked ready to speak, and Julius let it go. The Chesnaught met Gladion's eyes.

"Thanks for telling me that, Gladion. Maybe it's not all that different," she conceded, softly. "Although I'm pretty sure Tamuk is no longer with us. And that's probably for the best."

The tight look of grief on her face wasn't really for her grandfather. It was for the closure she'd never get.

"Anyone who knows about Tamuk is going to know that he was ruthless and unbeatable– people stopped sending mail or travelling, they wouldn't go out alone, high bounties didn't even help. The burial rites are still in living memory. People will wonder what kind of kids – and grandkids – he'd have, and how come he got to have a family when they didn't? You get me? Doesn't really matter if I ever knew him, or if he even stuck with my gran. Grief does things to a 'mon.

"So, I'm avoiding his shadow, then. We can put it like that. He's not known so much around h— nearby, but there aren't that many Chesnaught in Luctemar, and if I ever visited the frontier and came off like a tough 'mon, you can bet people would put two and two together. But... Well, even where I..."

She glanced at Julius, finding herself somehow stuck, looking for a sign from him. He nodded, his face etched with sympathy. "Go ahead, it's fine. It's not worth worrying about."

This seemed to answer her worries, whatever they were.

"Okay. Well, the thing is, I used to live in Novelux. If you don't know it, it's a city between Landsverd and Sojavena, and it's kindof the centre of everything in the western Commonwealth. Like... Trade. Art. All kinds of stuff. And more than a century ago, my twice-great grandma saved it from the Tremor Crisis, after turning up in a corn field with no memory of who or where she was."

Sam sighed, smiling hopelessly.

"Human," filled in Laura, when the pause invited the obvious guess.

"Yeah. She was a summoned human. And... Can you just imagine the kind of things people say when they figure that out? Like, the small stuff – 'how come you're lifting boxes in the harbour? You should be doing something with your life!' Or there's every time someone looks afraid, like I'm gonna squash them if I don't like their face or whatever. Or sometimes, 'mon come onto me because of it, which... maybe they'd do anyway if they're creeps, but at least it could be for something I had anything to do with. Or the big stuff..."

She didn't say what the 'big stuff' was. She looked like she had a stomachache.

"I just wanna be ordinary," she said, at last, flat as paper. "Doesn't matter if it's the bad guy or the good girl they're thinking of, to be honest. I don't wanna spend my life badgered by people who think I'm gonna turn out like one of my famous ancestors, or that I should do. Or who want something from me that I can't give them. Or... whatever."

She trailed off, unused to voicing her resentment like this. One paw went to the flower in her ear-fur. Something she'd put there herself; something delicate and bright.
 
Bellatrix nodded. Julius's answer in conjunction to Articuno's words on the Covenant told her all that she needed to know. That if they were a threat as the Vanguard so claimed, it was all kept to the innermost circles, so she left it there for Sam to continue her story. As the chesnaught spoke a sense of doubt began to paint the collective view the Wayfarers had conjured of the Covenant in her mind. Was a bad impression from Nolan and some words from a separate group of pokémon who acted just as dubious as the Covenant all that was required for the Wayfarers to oppose them?

Back on Sam's story, a small frown crossed Bellatrix's features. She tried to play it off as one of sympathy but it was another sensation altogether that tugged on the corners of her mouth; unease was the word her mind landed on but there was something more, an ever-so slight pang of guilt, yet she could not fathom why.

As to not let her silence linger into awkwardness, she said, "It sounded terribly challenging, I do hope you have found your place and sense of normalcy here."
 
At least, in a human society, Gladion had been able to disappear into the general population as just one more person. "Fair enough..."

Was it naive to hope they could excise the rot from the Coven's heart without destroying the chance for people like this to find community? There had to be. He had to believe that there was, because otherwise this situation would suck too much. (But if there were always large groups of unnaturally-powerful people, what would keep them from just making another Covenant?)

"If there's anything I miss about my life before all this, it's being able to pass as vaguely normal. Glad you found some community here. Does that mean you're not actually some hero-in-training? Wouldn't be surprised if Roscoe was just pulling my leg... Our legs? You know what I mean."
 
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"It sounded terribly challenging, I do hope you have found your place and sense of normalcy here."
"If there's anything I miss about my life before all this, it's being able to pass as vaguely normal. Glad you found some community here. Does that mean you're not actually some hero-in-training? Wouldn't be surprised if Roscoe was just pulling my leg... Our legs? You know what I mean."

Sam nodded gratefully at Bellatrix, and gave Gladion a slightly pained grin.

"Well, uh, 'hero-in-training' is sort-of what we call all of the pressure on me, put together. Like, in Novelux everyone knew I was a hero in her first chapter, or something. It's really supposed to be an in-joke, but Roscoe gets carried away a lot..."

Julius sniffed. "Well, that and he does rather think we should work towards the greater good with our abilities, underneath all the clownery and irony and so on. I rather think he sees wanting peace and quiet as a species of cowardice."

"Isn't it?" asked Sam, her tone more guilty than challenging. "I've found my... uh, my place and normalcy here. That's true. And I like that, I really do. I have a lot of friends here, and I don't feel out of place, and 'mon like Roscoe pick up the battle-strength just as easily from hanging around all the descendants so I don't feel responsible all the time – just from being me, I mean. Feeling responsible because it's my job is different. But... haven't I just kinda said 'no' to just doing the right thing...?"

Julius winced, but he was stumped for words for a moment. Emotional earnestness clearly wasn't his forte, and Sam's voice ached with sincere sadness.
 
"Can't set yourself on fire to keep other people warm," Gladion said without stopping to think. It felt both automatic and strange to say, like he was flexing a muscle after years of disuse. (If only he'd been better at articulating himself when he was young. Maybe he could've made this point properly before.)

He waved a talon casually, as if brushing something out of the way. Like this was an easy conversation and not something that had occupied his mind for ages. "I don't think it's possible, long term. You'd either burn out from failing to meet your own needs, or find a way to delude yourself into thinking what you wanted to do anyway is the greater good. Burning yourself out is better than the alternative, but even then, fact of the matter is that tired, emotionally-repressed burnouts just don't make good philanthropists." It's still better than being the other kind, though.

"Or maybe that's just what I want to tell myself." He shrugged, as if this wasn't something he felt passionately about. "What do I know? I inhale metal fumes for a day job and moonlight in getting hit in the head. Don't have to take my word for it if you don't want to."
 
Feeling responsible... Laura swallowed, and blinked as a thought of Jade flickered in her head for some reason...

While she collected herself, Gladion spoke up and actually got a laugh out of Sam. Full-throated, too, if a little pained.

"Okay, maybe you have a point," conceded the Chesnaught. "It's not like I've never wondered if I'd just be bad at it, I suppose..."

That wasn't Gladion's point, though. Not really. Laura frowned.

"It sounds like... the pressure stuck around," she said, not as softly as she'd like. "You're still carrying it with you, framing everything on those terms. Even admitting you might burn out as a 'hero' is about failing as a hero and not the harm it would do to you as a person... Like you're measuring yourself against the benchmark set by 'heroes'..."

There. That was it. Sam was surrounded by 'mon who were up to the challenge that she'd backed out of, in her own mind.

"...and maybe you're looking at all of us, and thinking about that..."

The words clearly stung, but Sam nodded emphatically. Yes. She was comparing herself to the Wayfarers.

"...but don't you think maybe you do enough good as you are? Or at least more than if you were miserable elsewhere."

A pause. There were voices faintly audible from just outside the door, a shrill chittering that sounded like Roscoe laughing at some joke. There might be other Covenant 'mon arriving shortly...

"...Maybe," said Sam, looking uncertain. "I mean. You guys seem to be doing just fine. Why couldn't I? Why shouldn't I...?"
 
"Isn't it?" asked Sam, her tone more guilty than challenging. "I've found my... uh, my place and normalcy here. That's true. And I like that, I really do. I have a lot of friends here, and I don't feel out of place, and 'mon like Roscoe pick up the battle-strength just as easily from hanging around all the descendants so I don't feel responsible all the time – just from being me, I mean. Feeling responsible because it's my job is different. But... haven't I just kinda said 'no' to just doing the right thing...?"

The feeling of shirking your duty. Now that was familiar. On Forlas and back home.

"...Maybe," said Sam, looking uncertain. "I mean. You guys seem to be doing just fine. Why couldn't I? Why shouldn't I...?"

"You may be overestimating how much 'heroics' the average Wayfarer does," Andre said. "Many of us still have very mundane day jobs. It's not like we're solving crises twenty-four-sev- I mean, eight. Hell, myself especially. Before facing Articuno, I'd only really been in a single battle before, and acted pretty much as support. The rest has been talking to people."
 
"You're not your lineage," Ghaspius bluntly replied as he quite literally floated back into the conversation, "I sure as chute didn't take up the family 'business' when I was teed up too, and there's folks out there who are thankful for that."

Realizing just how heated he was getting, he held up a tassel, cleared his throat, and continued in a tone closer to his usual cadence. "Really, though, it's fine to want to, y'know, live in and enjoy the world being saved. We certainly do, and I'm sure your ancestor did, too." He adjusted his satchel with a couple of clangs. "Sides, ain't that what bein' a hero is for? So your kids and friends don't gotta deal with all the weight you had to deal with? I wouldn't want my kid to have to do all this, if I ever adopted one."

He hummed to himself at that. Me, a parent? There's no way I'd be able to handle it, he thought to himself as his brows furrowed and mouth curled. "Anyways, if it helps y'all a bit, think of it this way: if everyone was out there on the front lines, who's holdin' the fort at home? Who's gonna make sure those out there have a home to return to, food to eat, supplies to use, and intel to work off of? I'd call those guys heroes, too."
 
Gladion shrugged. "Ran away from a chance to have any power in my home world. I'll never get to make a real difference there anymore, but a life of politics would've killed me. Maybe I failed to be a 'hero' there, but I don't really believe that's possible."

He paused for a beat before settling on how to continue, idly fidgeting with the talisman he'd made from his helmet. "Maybe my brain chemistry changed when I became a Null, but I don't think that's it. I think I just found a way of helping out that I was more capable of. Couldn't handle the means of power I was born into, but can't let these guys get beat up when I could be keeping an eye them. Maybe you could find a way to help that works better for you, but honestly? It's fine not to as well. It's your life, you can just... live it.”
 
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"You may be overestimating how much 'heroics' the average Wayfarer does. Many of us still have very mundane day jobs. It's not like we're solving crises twenty-four/eight."
"You're not your lineage. I sure as chute didn't take up the family 'business'. [...] It's fine to want to, y'know, live in and enjoy the world being saved. [...] Anyways, if it helps y'all a bit, think of it this way: if everyone was out there on the front lines, who's holdin' the fort at home? [...] I'd call those guys heroes, too."
"I just found a way of helping out that I was more capable of. Couldn't handle the means of power I was born into, but can't let these guys get beat up when I could be keeping an eye on them. Maybe you could find a way to help that works better for you, but honestly? It's fine not to as well. It's your life, you can just... live it.”

There'd been enough said – Julius seemed to relax, watching Sam's expression sidelong, and Laura observed quietly, content to see her risky probing going somewhere good. Potentially.

Sam took a deep breath, as if bracing for a heavy load, and then... gradually exhaled, the weight leaving her shoulders.

"...You know, I don't think I can argue with any of that," she said, smiling weakly. "You guys seem really figured-out, by the way."

Laura stifled a snrk at that, pretending her paw was over her mouth for the sake of looking deeply thoughtful.

Julius brightened instantly. "Well, that's rather what I've always felt, though I've never put it quite so well, myself. The idea of spending every waking day on heroics... Ha! You have the life you have, you do what you're called to, and that's all there is to it." He cleared his throat, and made to quickly wash up his mug.

Sam smiled fondly after the Lopunny, then shook her head and addressed the Wayfarers again.

"It genuinely does help to hear all that," she said, softly. "Even the summoned have day jobs... the world isn't divided cleanly into martyrs and the saved... and what you're born into doesn't have to be the good you choose to do. I can keep those thoughts with me, now that I've heard them from all of you."

Sam will remember that.

Laura was about to say something, when the door flung open and a handful of pokémon flooded the common room. A chalk-stained Solrock, a Minccino in a hooded coat, a bespectacled Pignite in a bowtie, carrying a portfolio...

"GREETINGS, SOJOURNING VISITANTS!" boomed the Solrock. "ADDRESS ME AS 'APRICITY' – IF IT PLEASES YOU TO DO SO!"

The Minccino just nodded upwards towards a coupel of Wayfarers, then headed directly to the fridge.

"That's my cue to get back to work," said Julius, striding towards the door. "It was a pleasure meeting you all. Safe travels back home, everyone."

Sam rolled her shoulders, and stretched. "Same here, actually. Got a job to do. But hey, I hope I see you guys again sometime. I get posted to Novelux sometimes, since I'm familiar – I'm sure you'll swing by there at some point, huh? See you 'round!"

The Chesnaught lumbered towards the exit, narrowly squeezing by the new arrivals, yet still managing to give the Wayfarers a friendly wave goodbye as she left.
 
The Pignite swerved out of Sam's way with an awkward wave up at her and a too-late, "G-good evening, miss!" after she had already left. He then seemed to suddenly remember why he'd entered the room and spun back around to shuffle toward the visitors.

"Ah, um, Lord Articuno has asked me to deliver a message! They have finished recovering their energy from battle and are able to transport the visitors back to their place of residence!" The message was delivered with an overly-official air, and the Pignite faced upward, as if addressing the entire room. He sheepishly lowered his gaze to make fleeting eye contact with a few Wayfarers, and after a few seconds' awkward pause, he adjusted his bow tie and added, "Oh, um, my name's Otto. Pleasure to finally meet you!" He made to hold out a hoof, nearly dropping his portfolio in the process.
 
Gladion smirked at Laura with faux-smugness after Sam left the room. Hear that, Laura? I’m really figured-out.

When offered, he gave Otto a fistbump. He’d already had his first Forlas handshake today, he didn’t need to get greedy and double up. Plus, it was important never to let the enemy see your next move coming.

“Hey, Otto. I’m Gladion.”

He looked over his shoulder at the other Wayfarers. “We ready to bounce?”
 
Ghaspius gave a sincere smile to Sam before turning towards the newcomers with a chuckle. "Y'all certainly know how to make an entrance. Apree City, was it? Not sure if someone confused a town name with a 'mon's, but no judgment here." His grin widened with mischief as it became clear he was purposefully mishearing the name.

"Pleasure to meet'cha, Otto," Ghaspius replied as he moved passed the hoof and instead pushed up the portfolio. "Careful not to drop what you're holdin'. I know I sure as chute do all the time."

He withdrew back to the others. "And yup, I'm ready when y'all are."
 
Andre waved to Sam as she left and greeted Otto as he arrived.

"I'm all set to go," the deerling expressed when asked about leaving.
 
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