“Tsk, tsk, tsk.. Leaving a five year old all alone in the middle of the open springs has to be a crime, dude.” Ifa shook his head in mock disappointment, eyeing you up and down for a moment after you had threatened — told him — that you'd have to go search for your friends elsewhere. Which consisted of people he didn't personally know nor really heard about.

“..Would you quit telling people you're five? People already look at you like you're insane.” Ororon pointed out with a semi-strsight voice, his voice a little softer than usual.

The occasional glance around the Springs was a dead giveaway he was on the lookout for Citlali, hoping one of the many women he considered his 'grandmother' wouldn't be on his back for being here so late.

But it was a party. And you had pleaded them to come along. And who were they to deny their third musketeer?

“Yeah, they look at you the same way when you start talking to your vegetables.” Ifa scoffed under his breath, though it was all in good fun.

Even as Ororon looked at him as if he had said the most flabbergasting statement known to man. One that he knew was entirely the truth, but he liked to pretend they only looked at him that way because they wanted some vegetables. And Ororon was glad to oblige.

..Anyway.. Moving back to you.

“Though, isn't it possible for us to tag along? I mean, we don't have a spot to save. And besides, I'd.. rather not be seen alone with Ifa when he starts claiming he's five.” Ororon mumbled the last part, a returning retort for the shirtless, tan, white and teal haired male besides him.