"Were I to make a guess, it's us they just detest." He winced immediately after the words fled his mouth -- and it wasn't a cringe dedicated to the slant of his rhyme.

"Oh -- goodness, habit."

It was as close to an apology as Gil would get. Eddie kept close to his company, keeping swift pace; Eddie had always been an accomplished runner. Haste typically prevented waste, in such a case.

"We can try to elude them at the next left alley turn. Follow right and another left -- if they attract a crowd," he said, his tone empty of optimism. "We're doomed."

Following with Gilbert, Eddie threw a wayward glance over his shoulder.