"Do ya?" Teige turned to Hawk curiously. "Do Mari?"

Hawk made a face. "Ahh, he says he don't, but I dunno. I think he pretends not to worry a lot."

He exhaled a long stream of smoke from his nostrils as they considered the graffiti for a silent moment. "It's just paint on a wall," Teige offered finally.

"Now it is," Hawk said. "Started that way in Violetta too. An' 'en it was just people sayin' things. An' 'en it was grown adults chasin' me an' Liya from school in their trucks. An' 'en there were guns an' shit."

Teige said nothing. The lightest breeze picked up the smoke and the leaves and drew it back behind them with a soft shushing sound; one of Teige's ears flicked to follow it.

"I dunno how worried t' be, 'cuz this ain't Violetta," Hawk went on, not noticing whatever Teige did. "But I don't really get Aetheri either. I'm tryin', but..." he exhaled again, and more smoke streamed back around his face and into the night. "...'s a million years a' history, an' I'm stupid. Feels like I'm tryin' t' see into th' future.