"Haakon," Haakon said, as he took the duffle bag, his right foot stretching and grinding in his sandals, his right heel grinding against his left ankle, staring, cold sweat dripping on to them and being absorbed, and staining his shirt where it says "delicious". It also changes his smell. He feels a slight relief at the served looking away, everything seeming slightly more normal, and yet... He soon starts walking in the direction that Liam pointed, trotting awkwardly but purposefully, the klip klap of his sandals against the deck.