"Sup." He knows a bare spatter of Spanish, but he's not about to bust any of it out right now, even for a laugh. Like an automatic reaction, when her head rests on his shoulder, he leans his head against her in return. It's nice not having helmets in the way, and clunky if effective space-age armor.

Huh. It's been more than a year, and he's still alive. This must be a record.

"I mean, yeah, in theory we're allowed to rest. In practice, it's a little more difficult." Everyone has to pull their weight, and it's the same amount of weight all around, from top to bottom, as far as he can tell. "And then there's a little extra on us with rifts involved."

No, she doesn't want to get lumped in with Rifters, but she does have a pain shard in her hand whether she likes it or not. So 'us' it is.