Kihri blinked, then barked out a surprised laugh. “You asshole! I’m supposed to be the funny one.”
“And the hawk screams its own name.”
Kihri made a face at her. “Rude.”
“Mm,” Zarah grunted, distracted. “Yes. Sorry. But… <does he look somewhat familiar to you?>”
After a second of silence, she turned to look at Kihri, and found her face scrunched up in concentration.
“Something… about large holes? Getting penetrated? Uhhh, bruising from anal sex?” She gave up, letting out a little puff of air, disappointed. “Dammit, you’ve thrown me off my groove.”
“Shame. Answer the question.”
Grumbling indecipherably, Kihri moved up closer to the face, and Zarah shuffled obligingly to the side. “Hm,” she said after a moment’s consideration, slowly beginning to orbit the head. “…yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right. I’ve definitely seen this clown before.”
“From a shelter, maybe?” Zarah suggested. “Or a kitchen. Also, please have some respect.”
“What? He’s dead, it’s not like he cares.”
“You would care.”
That shut her up. She continued rotating in silence for a few moments, then spoke. “Sorry, dead dude. Also, if you can hear me, don’t ever stick your head inside someone else’s body, cause it’s so gross and you can’t vomit anymore- Oh shit!”
“What?!” Zarah spun around frantically, but couldn’t spot anything out of the ordinary.
“I know who this sch- person is!”
“Really?”
She rolled her eyes. “No, I’m just fucking with you. Yes, really! He used to hang around the liquor store over on… whatever street, next to the big park with the pine trees.”
Zarah searched her memory, trying to recall anything that fit the description. “…with the big… flash-flash sign?”
“Yeah, the neon one.” Neon, right. “He worked the counter there a while back, I think, and then hung around afterwards on the corner.”
“Have… we been inside ever? I thought no.”
“Psh. Maybe you haven’t.”
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