Right. Time to regain some composure. He patted Wash on the back and stepped away, moving past the sofa and his knitting to the kitchen. There was bound to be shit for pie in there, somewhere. Apple. They had apples, he remembered that much. "Call her. She hasn't been answer'n when I tried to get ahold of her, but I ain't you. Soon as she hears your voice I'm sure she'll come runn'n."

That did beg the question. "The green one. Peridot. Was she up there where you found Greg?"