Calan
Calan bobs his head with firm agreement the moment Carlo starts listing protections, because obviously they haven’t sent Boaty McBoatface into the damp underworld without proper magical preparation. Honestly, it’s almost insulting that Finch would think so. She might be small, and she might have recently been stuck on seaweed, but that doesn’t mean she’s unprepared for the dangers of glory. "Extra sewer monster protection," he adds, holding up one finger as if this is an important legal correction. "Because some of them might be baby sewer monsters, and regular sewer monster protection might only work on grown-ups. You have to think about these things."
But then Carlo glances at him, and Calan glances right back, both of them drawn into the same sharp little pause. Thieves’ cant sounds suspiciously like the kind of thing grown-ups say when they want children to admit they don’t know something, and Calan narrows his eyes beneath the drooping edge of his hood and tilts his head at Finch, trying to decide whether this is real advice, a trick, or some special thief grammar he’ll have to pretend he knew already.
"And what does it matter what thieves can’t do if she’s a boat?" he asks at last, his voice full of reasonable suspicion.
But then Carlo glances at him, and Calan glances right back, both of them drawn into the same sharp little pause. Thieves’ cant sounds suspiciously like the kind of thing grown-ups say when they want children to admit they don’t know something, and Calan narrows his eyes beneath the drooping edge of his hood and tilts his head at Finch, trying to decide whether this is real advice, a trick, or some special thief grammar he’ll have to pretend he knew already.
"And what does it matter what thieves can’t do if she’s a boat?" he asks at last, his voice full of reasonable suspicion.
I've never been one to half-ass shenanigans.
