Sometimes the people from home don't remember the same things we do. Sometimes we'll disappear from the station at the same time and arrive where we're meant to be weeks apart. [ some of it mal's experienced, other bits of information he's been told but he keeps those cards close to his chest and says the words with an equal measure of worry.

he leans back against the counter, one arm crossed over his chest as he eats without the plate to catch his crumbs. it was all for naught but mal wasn't raised with manners. ] How long ago?

[ what else had changed since mal had fallen to his slumber? he looks around. ] You picked a poor time to make a deal, I'm afraid.