"Yes, and you could have just asked me to move the ladder, or gotten a second ladder." Definitely not actually an argument anymore, but an old, familiar kind of discussion, and as point of fact there was a second ladder now, though one that rarely saw use.

He had already started drawing even as he spoke, a small tangle of roots down across the back of Nicky's hand, the leaves and stalks came next, working up his forearm just as carefully as he'd picked out the ravens across Andy's shoulders, it would be a Hellebore when it was finished, a Christmas Rose, one of the first stories Nicky had told him once they'd finally stopped trying to kill each other and started trying to figure out what had happened to them.