[The unexpected contact, even as gentle as it is, startles him; but when the warmth doesn't move away, Chatterclock manages to wind down some, enough to release an unsteady breath and shelve the terror of waking up to a sea of unknowns.

Thanks, he thinks, and doesn't really say.]

Yeah, it's fine. Kind of on-the-nose with my timey theme, but we can't all go around calling ourselves shit like 'Caledfwlch' and 'Hrunting,' there isn't enough pretension in the world.

[He pauses.]

Or consonants.

[He must be feeling a little better, at least. After another heartbeat or two, Chatterclock calms down palpably and returns to topic. The distaction was a success.]

A Pact... Well, you felt it. It opens up a lot more options than either of us would have individually, but it goes so deep, you have to be careful. That's why, usually, you don't just leap into one with someone you just picked up off the floor. I bet folks can go for weeks, or years, even, making up exactly the right terms.

[He can't know for sure, but that's the impression he has. If he doesn't think too hard about how he knows things, it's like he can almost catch the knowledge out of the corner of his eye. Is there a such thing as peripheral memory?]

If there aren't people like me up there, are... [Chatterclock stops for a moment, unsure how to word his concern, but:] ...you gonna hide me or something? When we get out?