"Oh, you can do that in cornfields too," says Radar, with the sageness of both the experienced and the exceedingly drunk. "I got lost in one for ten hours once when, when I was five. But... yeah. Trees 's better for that. When y'really gotta hide."

Unthinking, he leans his shoulder against Dahlia's.

"I bet they woulda too. And you'n her too." Another small sigh. "Y'know. I feel bad every time I think it, but there's a lotta people I wish would turn up here. I don't want 'em to die, I just wanna see 'em again. Intra, tro, um... I want my friends here to meet 'em. Like you and Barb."

He pauses, frowns as a sudden thought strikes him, and says, "Why's it always called 'getting on like a house on fire?' Who thought that up?"