Embarassment. It burns on his cheeks high and pink. A scaldingly hot shower might have the same effect on one's skin as Hattie's rebuttals and Miriam's more professional attention combined. The boy rubs the back of his head and permits an awkward silence to overcome him as he listens in to the older people chatter. After some time, he seems to relax and lets out a breath.

"Sure, miss Holdstead." He said after the conversation had moved on and the crew began to shuffle towards their various vehicles "Though I think you'd technically need to ask my parents permission for anything legally permissible."

He let silence wash over him again as he moved at a slow pace, trailing behind the group of adults. His phone had been buzzing constantly ever since he left his house- Zoey, bugging him for details about Charles Christian no doubt- and even now he fidgeted as it buzzed in his pocket once more. Clicking his tongue beneath his scarf he swatted at his leg in an innocuous manner, attempting to properly silence the device in futility-

Only to stumble mid-step as the query from Hanako. His eyes widen briefly; such an odd question.

"Well, historically speaking, guns have equalized all issues. I wouldn't personally put stock into it making a difference with something like a Roc or Bi-Bon, but a high velocity impact wound would slow down anything physical even if it had some kind of supernatural resistance. Besides, that's what Salt, Iron, Silver, and the protective wards are for; I have complete faith in the Goddess." His words came accompanied by another grasp of the necklace his wore, his thumb rubbing over its well-worn surface in the telltale sign of a longstanding habit.  His eyes shift subtly as Hanako's final statement hits him, and he sighs softly.

"Yeah. Let's get going after Chuck. Anything beats walking." Was all he seemed to muster as people discussed the tranportation options. Idle hands seeking refuge from fidgeting mannerisms stuff themselves into his pockets; mitten'd fingers feeling through the salt and iron shavings in one pocket, the other gripping the tarot deck he always kept within reach. Feeling the familiarity of the cards in his hand seemed to calm him and bring him back to focus. He pulled out the deck, and despite the mittens on his hands he quite deftly shuffled the cards as remnants of salt fell from his woolen hands. He shut his eyes briefly, whispering quiet words to himself.

[i]Find Chuck, is taking a car a good idea? Group too large, need to reach the reservation, danger afoot.[/i]

Chariot VII. Multiple meanings, a blend of purposes. Seven is itself a magic number, rife with representation and meaning in the natural world and supernatural purposes. Within the Tarot it emphasizes creativity and indivuality. His eyes narrow a bit at the card, digesting this. The Chariot, whilst upright, shows control, determination, and success. The crescent moons present on his particular brand of the deck also represent something coming into being; a spiritual transformation. The array of stars also shows a connection to divinity; Divine Will, as it were.

He thumbed over the card before sliding it back into his deck.

"On second thought, I think we should just walk it out. Chuck probably didn't go missing in a car; we'd have found signs of that or someone would've seen something by now. Zoey and I can't leave town without a dozen people calling our parents, so yeah. Taking the roads would just make us miss any clues we might come across- and besides, we can't all fit in one car and splitting up would defeat the point of being in the group. Let's go by foot. I've got a feeling it's the best choice we have."

Individuality, Action, Determination. He let Magic take root; half of magic working was believing in it after all, and the card had said these things would lead to Victory.