"Okay," Erin says simply. "You don't need to share anything. Not a single syllable. I'm not gonna push, but the way I figure it is...I dunno. Figure tipping my hand as far as me paying attention earlier is a bit more honest than later. I used to be able to hide, myself, and now I just can't, and I'm still. Getting used to that, as an idea." Her fingers stray to her own arm, tracing the moving sheet music tattoos there. "...It can just be a nice walk, if you like. But hey, we're in the middle of the woods. It can also be your shot to ask me rude personal shit."