((My kindle does not like me.  Editing!))

"Je n'ai pas -- euh, n'ai jamais allé à la France."  Izkry's pronunciation wasn't too bad, at least, but his mastery of the language left something to be desired, and he knew it.  He gave Jean a self-conscious smile.  "No fairytale, this," he added, switching back to the more comfortable English to answer Jason.  "However amusing our strange group, I do worry we are such improbable companions that we will be caught the moment we arrive."  He ran a hand through his hair, fixing a few spikes that had been flattened.  "But you may be sure, Herr Jean, I will not freeze up.  A year and a half, two years, it has been for us, on the Swiss border.  ...If Belasý is up to it, maybe you will get to watch her shoot.  She is an excellent marksman -- mostly we did this, not long fights."

The woman frowned at her brother and gave a sharp shake of her head, though she was paying far more attention to Oscar's little...trick.  "Oh come now, if nothing else he must know your skill to be a good leader," Izkry protested.  "One or two bullets is not so much that is not a worthwhile cause."  Belasý sighed.  "Good!  She will."  He turned again toward Jean, but Oscar's floating ice pop attracted his gaze, and a raised eyebrow.  "Not bad, not bad.  You made it freeze?"  That was not something his sister could do, and he was intrigued.

Belasý was far less amused.  Increasingly bothered by the display, her hands had slowly formed into fists, and now a small, sharp twist of one sent the makeshift popsicle slipping out of Oscar's grip to smash on the truck floor.  It was not a flashy move, and if people weren't looking her way, they might miss it.

Izkry was not such a person.  He sighed.  She /would/ go about making things more tense.  "Cards?  I think I have a set, though not to hand," he said, trying to keep the mood light.  "A game does much to pass the time.  Do you play bridge?"

 ((There we go, sorry about that.))