[ As comfortable as Arcade seems to be making the walk back to the convoy - something Len assumes is rote now, more or less - his traveling companion is staunchly the opposite. The familiarity of this kind of environment still engenders the low-level paranoia that Len always has in similar places, wary and observant the way a hawk on an old power line is wary and observant. ]

It is.

[ He says plainly, mouth twitching into an amused smile at the gentility of Arcade's description. Loquacious is one word for it. ]

It's just infinitely more appealing when you're waxin' on about saguaros. They got anything like that out here? Like the Mojave?

[ Like home? ]