Pheres looks like they've hit him, his eyes big and wounded, and the kid behind him looks ready to bawl. Riccin feels like when they were bumping horns: like they've gotten stuck in the middle of some lowblood shit they don't understand.

(They might as well have hatched indigo, for all the sense these two are making.)

"What the fuck is your problem?" they demand, and they let go of the horn, because it's starting to feel weird. They clamp a hand on his shoulder, instead, grip firm so he doesn't take off. If they have to keep an arm on him in front of the drones to keep him from doing something stupid, well -

Myrrha owes them so fucking bad.

"The hell do you two have against drones? They're not out here for population control. It's a fucking health-check."