Hollowstone Bitsy Farm Calamity
Wouldn't speak with his mouth full. Impolite. Looked at Suri, up from where he'd been staring at the table, when she asked. Glanced at Parker. Not Hope. She already knew. He gave another little nod, but tried to hurry through his mouthful of meaty pasta cake. Grabbed up his wine mug. Wasn't exactly refreshing. But washed his mouth out good enough.

"Still live here," he answered. "Still like being here more n' anywhere else." Except maybe the Hollowstone Potato and Gourd Festival. But that wasn't quite yet. Soon. Which put him in mind of some things. Conversations and... Well, things.

Eyes dropped back to his plate as he chopped off another chunk with his fork. Stabbed it. Looked back to Suri. From her to Parker.

"Like it when y'all're here. So." Shoved in the fresh mouthful.
Shane spelled it out easily enough, a longer, thoughtful version of “yes,” for all the actual word went unspoken. Suri figures she could read between the lines well enough, and of course, it felt nice to hear their collective presence was enjoyed. Less for manners of the ego and more for the idea of unity and acceptance. But, you know, a little bit of the former too. Something to keep an eye on, personally.

She fixed him with a smile and a nod as a means of acknowledgement, feeling grateful. Even the cat in her heart closed its eyes to narrow slits, a silent gesture of comfort. It radiated between her little internal connection, and she was left with contentment, pursuing her meal in silence.
There they had it. The truth was out on all ends, there was nothing else being hidden or concealed. They knew a detective knew about Shane, everyone knew she'd turned him, and they all seemed to be in agreement that the farm was still the best option to treat as a regular meeting place. For all the unfortunate things to have happened on this piece of land in the middle of nowhere, a lot of good had come of it too.
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