For like a split second, he's excited. Like electrically. Like from the tips of his hairs all through every nerve excited. He hasn't actually felt that since he landed here.

Of course, all that good feeling bleeds out his mouth the instant he realizes that he is just not moving very quickly right now and that's his throat his throat his throat--

Thrown off, Party stumbles. One hand clamps around Wallie's wrist for balance; the other goes instinctively for his bowie knife. The knife goes instinctively for Wallie's ribs.