{Samara}
Standing guard for Renzo while he listened to a rock was, hands down, the most boring job Samara had ever been handed.
He sat there at his bare little table with the paired stone cupped in both hands, head tilted, eyes half shut, like a philosopher. He'd been at it a while now, and he could happily keep at it a while more.
Samara stood by the door, watched the wall, and tried not to think about anything, which she was bad at, since thinking was basically all she did anymore. Her feet had gone to sleep one toe at a time about twenty minutes back, and she'd counted the boards in the floor twice since.
The stone hummed faintly. And suddenly, Vessa's voice came out of it.
"...ugh, where did I put that note about the route thing..."
And Samara, who had spent a real chunk of this week getting flirted into a puddle by that exact voice, knew at once that Vessa was acting.
