Wait, rewind.
"Did you just make a band? Are we in a band?" The mop lifted, neck craning, and swiveled slowly like a groundhog looking for it's shadow. A band? Cool. Except, you know, the little s'name thing. If Doc Holliday could be Wyatt's huckleberry, he supposed he could be her star. Right? Of course that made sense.
Thoughts shuffled, and flipped.
"Uh. Sorry. Morgan. I just," a hand flopped towards the other two. "Anyway. So, like, are you any good? I didn't, you know, stick around. Like, obviously you know that, you were there. But still. How good are you? At parkour."
Because running from Bad Guys is Totally A Thing. Chasing, too.