She wasn't sure if Andy trying to steal it was a good thing or a bad thing, but it sounded like a good thing, so she didn't ask, just settled into the companionable silence, humming along herself.

It was a companionable silence right up until she found the culprit she'd been looking for, "There you are you little bastard." It wasn't loud, but it was sudden and it was sharp and she flicked the hornworm, a finger-thick, almost four-inch behemoth of a thing off of the stalk it was pretending to be part of with a quick movement of the stick she'd been poking at the leaves with, the kind of movement that was ingrained from practice, and once the pest hit the ground she just as quickly stomped it.