Carlo
"Mmhm," Carlo says, and that goes for both really thinking so and for helping Fern to get herself airborne later with the proper instructions (which they don't have either, technically, but in a similar vein to Calan's confidence, how hard could it be?)
As his brother solemnly offers an arm and he takes up the position behind Fern and her prodigal coat, they begin the glorious march onward to Pretzel Planet, and when they emerge from the (blessedly) quiet street to the larger thoroughfares of Haulani, the attention they start to get feels somehow different from the usual hollering and shaking of fists he's used to when gallivanting with his twin. It's obviously Fern's medical reputation, he thinks, and so he puts on an appropriately reverent expression and keeps his voice pitched low as he responds.
"With us?" he repeats, smiling like everything has all fallen into place exactly as it always should have. "Well we are all the same age, so I suppose that would be fair to everyone. Your mother and father have good taste." And much fancier naming conventions, but they've already covered that much.
Ahead of them the giant, decorative pretzel atop the Pretzel Planet's stall peeks over the top of other businesses like a lighthouse beckoning them to shore, and Carlo has no intention of wavering. "Hm? Oh, no," he says, of how they spend their days. "This is the first time we've been window cleaners. Yesterday we were oyster sellers, and before that we were sharks." He'd enjoyed being a shark, mainly because it had involved trying to grab their fathers' toes in the shallows of the Ahi Coast, but these new guises have much more business opportunity to them.
As his brother solemnly offers an arm and he takes up the position behind Fern and her prodigal coat, they begin the glorious march onward to Pretzel Planet, and when they emerge from the (blessedly) quiet street to the larger thoroughfares of Haulani, the attention they start to get feels somehow different from the usual hollering and shaking of fists he's used to when gallivanting with his twin. It's obviously Fern's medical reputation, he thinks, and so he puts on an appropriately reverent expression and keeps his voice pitched low as he responds.
"With us?" he repeats, smiling like everything has all fallen into place exactly as it always should have. "Well we are all the same age, so I suppose that would be fair to everyone. Your mother and father have good taste." And much fancier naming conventions, but they've already covered that much.
Ahead of them the giant, decorative pretzel atop the Pretzel Planet's stall peeks over the top of other businesses like a lighthouse beckoning them to shore, and Carlo has no intention of wavering. "Hm? Oh, no," he says, of how they spend their days. "This is the first time we've been window cleaners. Yesterday we were oyster sellers, and before that we were sharks." He'd enjoyed being a shark, mainly because it had involved trying to grab their fathers' toes in the shallows of the Ahi Coast, but these new guises have much more business opportunity to them.
today you are the king and the day belongs to you
