Emberwood The Beastie Boys fought and possibly died for my right to party

Fine, he half-wheezed, sniffling. He lifted his head and stared at her laughing face, momentarily entranced by the lines of beauty in it. It took a little bit for him to shake out of it, and when he did, things had grown serious again. Do you want to take a walk? Aye, sure, Pyg replied, beginning to move ahead at a slow pace.

Maybe she wanted to talk about what she'd been feeling. He knew she was upset; he could see it clear as day. Was it him? Was it something he had done? Worry began to prickle at him, and he engaged himself with staring straight ahead, looking at the crumpled, dying leaves on the ground.

So, how've ye been? he asked casually, trying to keep his jitters at bay.