It's getting to be a rather pleasant spring day, certainly by St. Claire standards. Sunny and 73, the kind of day weathermen are always cheerful about. Felix looks fairly cheerful as well, about it or otherwise, as he wanders idly along the edge of the fountain, forward and back. It's not a notably challenging balance beam, though it may or may not be quite as easy as he currently makes it look. His jacket's on one of the benches, along with a McDonald's bag, and he's most of the way through a cigarette and rather less of the way through a song, voice strong and soulful: "But we're all strange, an' maybe we don't wanna change..."

Trace walks into the park from Bridge Street, though his car is nowhere to be seen at the moment, and angles over towards the fountain at his usual pace. The weather is nice enough that the ahroun's ditched the usual leather jacket in favour of a medium weight flannel shirt in a black and charcoal plaid. Enough to keep off the wind and enough to somewhat conceal the weapons he carries, but certainly lighter.

For a long moment, the Glass Walker hangs back, which turns out for the better, with one of the people walking in the park skirting him by a good distance to toss a few loose dollar bills towards Felix's feet, before moving on.

"Buenos tardes," Trace greets Felix with a grin when he finally makes his way over. "Having fun?"

Felix gives the tipper a bright smile and a mock salute of acknowledgement, the former spreading further as he spots Trace approaching. "I got guns in my head an' they won't go," he sings directly to the Ahroun, with a lounge-singer-esque finger gun to go along with it, "Spirits in my head an' they won't go..." There aren't many people around now, and those that are aren't currently showing any signs of being inclined to get near the fountain with the Garou there; the Galliard stops singing there and hops down to collect the bills and tuck them in a pocket before they blow away. "Shitloads," he replies, which is probably an exaggeration but doesn't appear to be a lie, "Hungry? Got burgers an' shit." A gesture toward the bag on the bench.

Trace nods and angles for the bench, grinning as he does so. "Sure," he agrees when he gets there. "So this is the park you guys have been telling me about?" There's a grin. "The sky's blue, of course I'm hungry."

"This is it!" Felix confirms, spreading his arms wide as if to say 'ta da!'. "'course, we'll wanna wait 'til dark before I show you the rest of it." He takes a last drag off the stub of his cigarette, then pinches it out and flicks it into a handy trashcan, freeing his hands for the food. There turns out to be a couple Big Macs in there, on top of a metric butt-ton of fries, not even in containers of their own. The Gnawer extracts the burgers and offers one over, then steps up onto the bench to sit on the fountain edge, boots on what's meant to be the seat, with the Bag o' Fries set beside him. A nudge of his jacket reveals a partially-drunk 20oz Coke bottle, which he sets beside him as well. "'bout you, havin' fun?"

Trace nods. "More or less. Gun range really isn't much to talk about, ran into Briari there for a little bit of it." The ahroun rolls his eyes. "I got the impression that... I..." There's a thoughtful pause, and Trace uses the space to unwrap the Big Mac and take a large bite, getting halfway through chewing before he keeps talking. "Don't think she," swallow, "really likes me very much. Agreed to teach her the Gift I'm teaching you, though, after I finish teaching Jamethon."

"Ain't been there as yet," Felix says around a mouthful of burger of his own, and there's a knowing little nod to the eyeroll. "I reckon it ain't always easy to tell, with her," he muses, "How come you got that impression?" He doesn't sound as if he particularly doubts the judgement, just curious. A sudden grin, "...luckily you don't hafta be pickin' out curtains for teachin'. She taught me City Runnin', but some days I reckon it was mostly an excuse to push me off buildings an' shoot at me." It's hard to tell how much of a joke that might be.

Trace purses his lips, taking another bite and actually getting through it this time before speaking. "You know that gun she mentioned at the new moon moot thing?" he asks the other. "She was acting kind of high and mighty like the gun is all that. It's got /software/ that does half the work and keeps the target." He shrugs, and takes another bite. "I gave her my opinion of that. And she didn't very much like it."

Felix snorts at the 'high and mighty' bit, shaking his head a little. "She's rich," he says dryly, "Don't ever forget. It's =very= important. Her gun's brand-new an' super-exclusive an' ridiculously expensive so it =must= be the best. VERY important." Another bite of the burger. Somewhat more charitably he allows,"I reckon it prolly is pretty good, if you gotta get somethin' shot an' you ain't got someone with the skill to do it old-school on hand. If you do, maybe it ain't needed."

Trace grins and nods. "Corporate Wolves," he says as a sort of explanation to 'she's rich'. "Give me a plain old M40 any day of the week," the ahroun continues, "but I don't exactly expect her to understand that. Especially with everything else to be considered."

Pack> Justin says "Yo."

Pack> Felix says "Yo."

Pack> Justin says "Sup?"

"Awful lot of shit rich folks don't understand," Felix says, and it's his turn to roll his eyes. He polishes off the burger, and picks up the Coke bottle, opening it for a drink, then offering it to Trace as well. He pauses, then glances sidelong at the Ahroun, consideringly. "First time we met," he says, "she'd broke into the Library to threaten us about pranks on Edgewood. I wasn't even in the pack yet then, but. We had us a lot of words. ...it was my moon, she's fuckin' lucky it was words. Anyhow. 'mong other things, she said if we kept comin' over there an' fuckin' with shit, she would buy this place," presumably the Library, not their current location, "demolish it, an' turn it into a Starbucks." He relates this very evenly, much more so than he generally speaks, and watches the Walker.

Pack> Felix says "Chattin' with Trace at the Park. Gonna hop to the other side later. 'sup with you?"

Pack> Justin says "Not much. I'll come join you guys in a little bit."

Trace nods, and for once listens seriously without poking at the Galliard in one way or another as he speaks. "Doesn't sound very third tenet of the Litany like," the ahroun manages to comment, teeth slightly bared before he takes a deep breath, and accepts the drink, taking a long gulp before passing it back. "Especially considering the circumstances." The pair are sitting near the fountain, Trace on a bench and Felix on the edge of the fountain right behind.

The faint extra tension fades from Felix, and he gives Trace a half-smile, nodding as he takes back the bottle. He seems just about to say something more when he pauses, tilting his head just a fraction. "J says he's gonna come by an' join us in a li'l," he informs his companion. The empty burger box goes into the recycling side of the trash, and he reaches into the paper McDonald's bag beside him, pulling out a handful of cooling fries. A white Civic drives past the opening to the street, and there's a sudden return of the grin. "Bet that one gift'd make boostin' cars slicker."

Trace grins. It takes him a bit longer for the tension to fade, a few more purposeful deep breaths, and there's a long minute of muttering under his breath in what sounds like somewhat impolite Spanish. "Guess we maybe ought to leave a few of the fries for him," the Walker says and chuckles, but it's not stopping him from reaching and getting a handful of them nonetheless.

Heading down into the park is Justin, carrying a box of cheap Little Caesar's five dollar plain pizzas. The Gnawer ahroun is wearing a pair of destroyed and repaired jeans and a snug south western patterned shirt. Spinning the pizza box about his fingers, he calls out. "Yo dogs. Who's hungry? Oh, wait, you already got food. I guess mooooore for me." He says with a wide grin.

"Dunno, how nice we feelin'?" Felix says, looking more cheerful again. He takes a second handful of fries, and considers the rest. "He'll prolly get here before--" And, as if on cue, there he is. "Yo, J!" the Galliard calls back, "Bring that here. We got fries. Might be a pie or two hidin' at the bottom, won't know 'til we get there."

Trace chuckles and tilts his head. "Hola, hey, just because there were burgers doesn't mean we're not hungry," Trace points out, and then there's a mischievous glint in the ahroun's eyes as he continues (and even is pretty much on-key), "mouth is alive, all running inside, and I'm hungry like the wolf!"

Smirking at the pair, Justin flops the pizza down and opens it up. "You got pies also? What kind?" He asks curiously as he dips his face into the bag of fries to root about. "I think I smell apple!"

"Hungry like the wolf," Felix agrees very seriously after Trace sings -- spoken, but the rhythm is exact for the part of the song. The grin escapes again just after, and he reaches over to push his packmate's head somewhat away from the bag, "Stop pawin' at the fries! They're coolin' fast enough already. Anyway, IF there is any, an' I suspect there might be one or two 'cause Katie was workin', yeah, apple." He leans over to examine the pizza, and snags the closest corner slice he can reach.

Trace also seems more interested in the pizza than in discussion at the moment, grabbing a slice at the first opportunity. The Walker grabs a slice of the pizza, before leaning back against the bench and kicking his feet out in front of him. "Mmm," he says, around the bite of pizza. Felix gets a grin. "That strawberry-rhubarb pie at the diner was good," he notes, a little bit smugly and with a very faint flush of colour to his cheeks.

Justin swats back at Felix's hand. "Hey, if you're gonna snag a slice, I'm going to get a bite of pie at least." He takes a handful of fries and tosses them into his mouth. "So whatcha guys gonna do on the other side?"

Felix ffts. "You can HAVE a bite, you just gotta wait 'til we uncover 'em. Patience, young grasshopper. Eat fries." He glances to the Walker at the mention of pie, and grins back, with a wicked edge to it. "It was fuckin' delicious," he agrees, "I could eat that all day." He has a bite of the pizza, instead. "Nothin' particular, just gonna show him. Ain't seen it yet."

"Now you two are rubbing it in, having yourself a little bromance. Think I'm getting jealous." Justin says with a smirk at the pair of them, cramming some fries on to the top of his pizza slice, then folds it in half for a bite. "You just hanging out here in the park then? Moon is still kinda flimsy."

Trace grins at Justin. "/Los celos son malos consejeros/," he informs the other ahroun very seriously, and the very serious expression doesn't last long before Trace just grins again, and shakes his head briefly. "Just here was the plan, yeah."

"You an' me could have a rad bromance," Felix sings, and reaches over to attempt to ruffle Justin's hair; alas, sitting on the fountain edge doesn't let him reach quite far enough, with the now even more decidedly taller Gnawer still standing. He gives up, and nudges his packmate's leg with the toe of his boot, instead. "Yeah, just hangin' right now. It oughta be fine, here." He glances toward the sun, squinting as he judges how close to setting it may be. "What've you been doin', aside from pickin' up delicious pizza?"

"Nah much. Just snagging pizza and was going to track you down to give you some." Justin says as he blows his hair back into place as it was ruffled in front of his eyes. He has let it get shaggy again with the ends naturally curled. "Si intenta robar y mi mejor amigo me broma a su papel higienico," he says to Trace with a laugh.

Trace raises his eyebrows and grins. "¿No se puede tener multiplés mejores amigos?" he retorts, and chomps down on his slice of pizza when he's done talking. "From the way you guys talk about this park, it must be pretty special over on the other side."

"I like that plan an' suggest it be repeated in future," Felix says, reaching over to take another slice of the pizza. He looks from one Ahroun to the other, eyes narrowed a bit at them instead of the sun, now. "Y'know, ain't polite talkin' shit I can't understand in front of me," he says, "All I got outta that is 'friend'. Well, an' 'me', maybe." He washes down a bite of pizza with a fair swallow, and offers the bottle to either or both of his companions. "Well, we like it."

"Únete a nuestro paquete y que tendrá tres mejores amigos que viajarán y morir por ti todos los días. Ademas, pizza gratis," Justin says with a proud grin upon his face, then crams in the last bite. He gives Felix a bump of the shoulder, then wraps his free arm about him for a half hug. "You're so vaaaaain, I bet you think this song is about you." He sings in an off key voice.

Trace ducks a nod and grins at Felix, before accepting the drink and taking a swig. "Hey, I can't argue with pizza," Trace says, "or the rest of it. I'm still getting settled, but all things in good time, ¿sí?" He lifts his shoulders in a shrug and falls silent, thoughtful.

Felix returns the shoulder bump, and then punches Justin in the arm for the song, though not in an actually-attacking sort of way. "Didn't say you were talkin' about me. But there's hermits in caves know 'amigo' means friend. An' if 'mi' don't mean 'me', damn." He grins, "Bet it WAS about me, now. An' no one can argue with pizza. Pizza's always right."

Smirking at Felix, Justin just gives Trace a nod of the head. "Nope, pizza is the great catalyst to all friendships." With that, he dips his hand down into the bag of fries and yanks out a pie. "PIE TIME." He shouts out gleefully, holding it up like he won a trophy.

Trace grins at Felix, "I won't deny that we were, or at least in a roundabout fashion," he says to the Galliard. "But good things!" As if that somehow makes it better, which to be fair it probably does. "Now if only we could get pizza to be the catalyst of victory as well, then the world would be /awesome/."

"Well, OBVIOUSLY good things," Felix says, with an affected airy arrogance, and then grins back. "You better not be bogartin' the whole thing, man, that was meant for me," he says to Justin, pointing a stern finger at him. He polishes off his current slice of pizza, with a quick glance to be sure they remain well-avoided by anyone not them, and muses, "That really would be awesome. Teenage Mutant Ninja Werewolves."

Justin breaks the piece of pie in half, then puts the other side into the bag. He takes a bite out of gooey apple deliciousness. "Obviously good news." He affirms with a nod of his head. "Soon as you learn Spanish, we're going to start speaking French to throw you off you know." He gives another stretch of his body, then perks upwards. "Eh. I'll catch you guys on the other side later. Watcher is wanting a milkshake and he's bored out there in the woods by himself. I'm gonna go keep him company."

The Walker raises his brows, and snickers. "Guess I had better start learning French," he says, grabbing a few of the last of the fries and eating them in between bites of pizza. "¡Nos vemos!" he tells the other ahroun, with a nod.

"That'd be a neat trick, seein' as you don't speak French," Felix says, "...unless now you're learnin' it JUST to be able to do that, in which case I ain't even mad, that'd be some damn commitment." He reaches into the bag for the remaining half of the pie, and splits that in half itself, offering a piece to Trace. "Watcher oughta come here an' hang out with us. Closer to milkshakes." Still, he lifts his chin slightly in what seems to be a farewell.

"Yeah, I'll drag him out and probably catch you guys later tonight." Justin says as he waves on his way off as he leaves the pizza behind for htem to finish. "¡Adios!"

Trace ducks a nod and accepts the piece of the pie, chewing on the edge for a moment before taking a bite, at which point the ahroun goes to dig into his jacket for his cigarettes-- and only afterwards seems to remember he's not wearing his usual jacket. There's a brief 'oh' followed by a slightly sheepish look. "Hah," he says, pushing to his feet to pull his cigarettes out of his jeans pocket where they are instead.

"I keep doin' that too," Felix says, noticing the aborted dig, "Ain't mad it's gettin' warmer again, but I'm gonna miss the extra pockets." He pops the piece of apple pie in his mouth with every evidence of enjoyment, although he does note, "...ain't quite so good as the strawberry-rhubarb."

Trace flips open the pack of cigarettes as he sits back down, taking one out and lighting it before offering the pack and lighter to Felix. A long drag later, he says, "Yeah. Really, most of the time I'll just wear the jacket anyway. I mean, I wore it in summer in LA, just not at high noon." He grins. "And mostly, I still think it's a bit cold here overall. Winter time is going to suck."

Felix accepts, of course, lighting up and handing both pack and lighter back. "Thanks. Winter ain't so bad, really. Don't snow nearly so much as I expected. We're pretty far north, right? I figured it'd be cold as a witch's tit up here at least half the year, but... not so bad." He watches the smoke curl through the air as he exhales, as he seems wont to do. There's a slight furrow to his brow.

Trace grins briefly. "Well, it's a lot further north than I've ever been before," he agrees. "I kinda liked snow as far as going up to the mountains, building snow forts, throwing snowballs at each other. That part has always been pretty fun." There's a thoughtful silence, and the Glass Walker raises a brow in a somewhat questioning expression, though no question is voiced aloud.

Felix notes the expression. "Ponderin' where to store shit if I ain't wearin' the jacket," he admits with a small shrug. "Yeah, snow fights an' shit are fun. Couple months ago Lilah an' I pegged a litterin' asshole from the Library roof, that was fun too." He glances toward the river and adds, "What we ought do this summer's go tubin'. Prolly plenty of 'em in the junkyard." The river here doesn't so much look ideally inviting, but perhaps he doesn't mean right here. Hard to say.

Trace lifts his shoulders. "Invent more pockets," he offers as a solution. "Or," there's a broad grin, "cargo pants?" Trace resumes his previously relaxed seated posture that had been disrupted but the searching, crossing his legs at the knee one over the other.

"Hm. Could work if I found the right ones, I s'pose," Felix says, "...gotta be a military surplus store 'round here somewhere, ain't looked for that yet." He's still seated what appears to be comfortably, rear on the fountain and boots planted on the seat of the bench, a good foot or two apart. He snags one of the remaining slices of pizza, and very swiftly works on making it cease to remain. "Might be able to stick somethin' in my boot, also." Shrug. "We'll see." A glance toward the setting sun, measuring.

Trace grins. "Yeah. I mean, I've kept knives in my boots before, but that's about it most of the time," the ahroun offers. "Bet the military surplus store would be a good place to pick up extra clothing for having around wherever ends up being the general safehouse later," he adds after a minute. "Since thrift is pretty hit and miss."

Felix has another drink, and offers it again as well. "Reckon so," he agrees, "an' yeah, they are, but that's half the fun anyhow. I got--" He breaks off, the grin dimming slightly. "Well, assumin' I ever get back to the rest of my crap. I got some good shit." This does not seem like exactly what he was originally going to say, and it comes with a resentful gaze toward the Library for free.

Trace nods, and shoots an additionally helpful glare in the direction of the Library. A long moment of pause and a long drag from the cigarette later, and in the quiet volume he tends towards when he's being thoughtful, Trace simply offers, "We'll get them, one way or the other."

Felix takes a drag on his cigarette as well, just short of synchronized. Probably not intentional. "Yup," he agrees, and nothing else for another long pause. "Every time I'm around here I think 'bout goin' in an' just gettin' shit. Ain't like there's anythin' I can't get along without, it just pisses me the fuck off." Another drag. "Then I remember I ain't really got anywhere to put it but the Caddy, an' only so much I can get in her trunk." Currently, the stuff he'd brought to Edgewood, including the guitar, and a fair selection of the food, drink, and other items they 'rescued', as well. "Ain't nearly the biggest thing they're owed for, but it still fuckin' gets on my tits. Anyhow," he says, glancing to the sky again, and around, "I reckon we're about safe to head across without gettin' interrupted."

"Yeah," the Walker agrees. "I mean. I didn't really start accumulating stuff, but still. I left a lot of stuff down in Novato until stuff gets more settled and they can move up here." Trace takes a drink from the bottle and then hands it back, and purses his lips. "Give me a few-- the flannel shirt isn't dedicated," he says, grumbling. "I spaced earlier or I'd have done it when I got dressed." From his pocket, Trace produces a small pocketknife, drawing it across his palm just enough to draw blood. With that, he starts to mark the items of his clothing, one by one, the shirt getting a glyph and the rest of them each just a drop of blood, "Da nobis famulis tuis, Domine Iesu Christe, beatae Mariae Virginis Matris tuae semper et ubique patrocinio protegi." It's Latin, though it sounds a lot more influenced by Trace's Spanish accent, and there's a long moment of concentration. "Amen."

<OOC> Trace calls that about seven minutes or so for the Dedication. Also, Trace's gun seems to be treated as part of his "clothing" and the pocketknife as an additional "item". (sadly rendering it useless in the Umbra, but it's a fudge, and it works)

"I," Felix replies a touch more brightly, "did not." This allows him to just watch Trace's method, which he does with interest, and drink some more, which he does with alacrity. The top goes on the bottle, the jacket back on the Galliard, and the bottle in its pocket before he hops to his feet.

There is a slight snicker of amusement before Trace continues, a little quieter, touching each piece of clothing simply with his fingertips, and this time it really /is/ in Spanish, "Dios te salve, María. Llena eres de gracia: El Señor es contigo. Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres. Y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre: Jesús. Santa María, Madre de Dios, ruega por nosotros pecadores, ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte. Amen." When he's done though, there's no blood left on his clothing. "Alright, well, there's no one else here so I guess we don't need to go find the outbuildings." The Walker glances over towards the fountain, and begins to reach across the gauntlet.

<OOC> Trace says "The second part does not take nearly as long as the first, and the Spanish is very, very quick rather than the more careful Latin."
<OOC> Trace says "And yes, that is hail mary in Spanish."

Felix listens, head tilting just a bit. "Well, that sounded pretty church," he observes, and takes a glance around before focusing on the more-still water near the fountain edge, and beginning to reach as well.

It takes Trace several minutes to cross into the Umbra even here, and he squints and blinks a few times after he has done so, getting his bearings. "Most of it pretty much is, but it works, and it doesn't get looked at twice if someone overhears in the wrong place," Trace says with a grin, and then whatever else he was going to say is lost as he looks around. "/Madre de dios/..." he murmurs. "Wow."

Felix is quicker... but not by a whole lot. He makes the same dramatic arm-spread gesture he did for the other side of the park, but this time he actually does say "Ta da!" Just getting here seems to have brought him much closer to his earlier cheer, and Trace's reaction to looking around gets it just that much farther. "Ain't bad, huh?"

Trace blinks a few more times before walking over to the edge of the umbral fountain, and reaching to drag his fingertips along the very top of the water. "Understatement of the century," he says to Felix. "I mean, the caern's great and such, but this... it's in the middle of the city. And it's still as beautiful as anything. That means something, when push comes to shove."

Felix grins wider, turning around to take the whole place in, even if it's surely not close to the first time he's been here. "People always say that but they never pony up the trophy," he replies, and moves over to join Trace by the fountain. "I heard at one point, sounded like at least a few years back, apparently there was some beef between the city an' country 'rou, an' the Urrah were talkin' about openin' here as a caern. Things got cleared up, so they didn't, obviously. But." Another glance around. "It'd be a pretty decent one, I reckon."

There's a nod. "It would be a good one. Or at least, I think so, not that I know that much about these things," Trace admits, still utterly fascinated by the fountain. "And it's bright here, too, even though the moon's small?" His attention turns from the water, to the fetish illuminating the glade, and he lets out a breath. "I'm glad they haven't tried to attack this place, yet," he says, quietly.

"Yup," Felix confirms, though it surely isn't needed, and gestures toward the oval stone the Ahroun's spotted, "That Fetish keeps it lit like a full moon, all the time. An' yeah. I'm glad too." His expression darkens a bit. "Ain't 'cause they got no idea this place matters to us -- Spiral pack tagged the fountain an' bathrooms a few months back, other side. Spiral Revolution shit, 'none of this matters'." His Rage is definitely closer to the surface, recounting that, though not so far as to threaten to break free. "Nick suggested if we fixed it, they'd know we cared about the place. So we let the city do it. Might be it worked."

Trace sits down in the grass next to the wall of the fountain, after a long moment, and pulls his shirt about his shoulders a little more. "That's a helluva Fetish," he says, taking a few deep breaths. "Wonder what comes next," he adds, offhandedly, and then grins. "Justin was funny, earlier. I think he really... might be a little jealous?" Trace doesn't sound like he believes that, though. "And he threatened to turn me into toilet paper and make it sound like a curse word. I mean, it's definitely not a curse word."

"Ain't it? Sometime I gotta figure out who can tell me where it came from," Felix muses, "...an' maybe more history of the place. ...what comes next from what?" He sits himself on the edge of the fountain, much as he did on the other side, ignoring the fact that this means his feet don't actually touch the ground. He laughs once, and sounds altogether too satisfied when he replies, "Knew y'all were talkin' about me." Possibly he subscribes to the Oscar Wilde school on that count. The tone shades decidedly more toward 'perplexed' when he echoes, "...turn you into toilet paper an' make it sound like a curse word?"

Trace grins. "Like... the things you say to avoid curse words. Like fiddlesticks or whatever, or the Spanish equivalent of calling someone a poo-poo head instead of just saying they're being a fucking dickface," he says, "not that I was being a dickface. Much."

Felix laughs again. "So just a =li'l= bit of a dickface. Cocktail weenie maybe," he says, the grin back properly at the moment. "How were you bein' one? Aside from not much."

"Heyyyyy," Trace says, reaching over to shove Felix in the knee and shaking his head (though he doesn't actually push hard enough to tip the Gnawer into the Fountain). "When I told him what my mother used to tell me, that /los celos son malos consejeros/, that jealousy makes you stupid in your actions," Trace continues, and grins. "I mean, ignoring the fact that it's true, it was still kinda."

The shove gets a snicker, and hands automatically going to the fountain edge, though Felix doesn't end up needing the reinforcement. "Green-eyed monster," he says, and tilts his head, considering. "Hmm. A'right, I s'pose that could qualify as =mild= dickface. Dependin' what else got said."

"Pretty much," Trace says. He grins, and leans back against the wall of the fountain to stare up into the Umbral sky, silent for a long moment following. "So anyway," he continues, "before we get back tonight, start thinking about what it means to use a tool and such. To respect the spirit of whatever tool you're using and cooperate with the tool. You'll need to find that, to get the Gift to work." There's a faint chuckle. "Not that I'm in any hurry to leave," he adds.

Felix follows Trace's gaze and looks up to the sky as well, having been an example of the 'people never really look up' assertion today. He twists his position and lies down on the fountain edge, one arm behind his head, to study Luna, and the lesser spirits around her. "Will do," he says, "...but yeah. No hurry."