[ Ivan imagines Jinx acting out her own instructions vigorously and viciously, with that bursting energy behind her words. Not one to fall behind on a challenge, he climbs to his feet, turning his big, soulful eyeballs to the fruit-filled foliage above him. For someone of his height, a small hop is all it takes to snag a branch he suspects will be sturdy enough to withstand a sharpening. Standing there, he simply plucks the leafy bits off in spite of every strange thing that's happened, in a strange place with a strange voice in his head.

There's so much else he could be pondering— life, death, eternity —instead, he's unusually focused on this miniscule task. ]

Funny you should ask! It almost feels like you've already picked my face out of the crowd. [ It's as unserious as an accusation can be, given she'd have to be mere feet from him to see his mouth. Ivan lightly presses the tip of an index finger into the snaggletooth sticking out of it. ] I have this one, unusual one that's annoyingly pointy. It could stab something or someone all by itself.

[ Hm, he doesn't think he'll really have to resort to chewing on anything, though. ]

[ He'll see how far the stones get him first. ]