[ The sloppy speech is disconcerting. Quentin pauses to look out the window for the car, but hands--branches stretch across the space between them a little farther than he remembers. Whatever. It's fine if they just keep talking. ] Yeah, about that--what's in the cab--
[ The voice from below rises up. Quentin's drops low, gaze snapping down to the wood. ]
no subject
[ The voice from below rises up. Quentin's drops low, gaze snapping down to the wood. ]
...There's a person in here.