[ She gets his line of thinking, considering it as the last of the bird treats is devoured. Most of the birds fly off, but a few stay. One particularly bold one shoves its head into her hand, demanding scritches.

Sunday's tension is apparent even though she doesn't have Aventurine's absurdly high EQ. Soothing him isn't as easy doting on a human critter. Her tone is light and genuinely innocent, an expression of her thoughts more than trying to demolish his. ]

It's not a life, though? It's a dream. And even if it feels real, everyone wakes up eventually.

Or their money runs out. [ Honestly, the Penacony business model is as predatory as anything the IPC could cook up. The oppressed really became the oppressors. ]

Like, by that logic, we may as well give up on leaving this place.