Drust’s eyebrows twitched upward at Ghent’s reaction, his stony gaze glancing once between Ghent and the phone.
	[b]“That’d probably be best for everyone involved.”[/b]
	“Indeed,” he grumbled, fingering a few more fries and watching Ghent gather his few things. 
	Elayra snorted at his commitment of return, glaring with a doubtful scowl into the cup at the remainder of the milkshake. She jabbed the straw in the melting liquid.
	“How many times do I have to tell you?” Elayra snapped at Ghent’s further offers. Drust’s pale lips pulled downward, though whether because of her tone or Ghent's words, she could not say for sure. “We’ll be [i]fine,[/i] Ghent. So run along." She flicked her fingers dismissively at him. “Do what you need to do, and we’ll see you in the morning. Hopefully,” she added with a soft snort.
	Drust glared at her. “As Elayra has so eagerly demonstrated,” he began stiffly. He looked back to Ghent, “it appears we can create our own light, if necessary. You have done plenty for us as it is.” He nodded jerkily toward their mostly empty bags of fast food. “Go home. Say your farewells. Prepare yourself,” he concluded in a stern voice demanding obedience.