Dunin chuckled. "That's Danny: knows all, sees all, says nuf'n'. I'd live with him awhile when he grows up if only he wasn't so lazy."
"What's wrong with being lazy?"
"Not a thing, rockhead. Only if you're going to explore, the way I am, you can't be lazy, the way you are." She twisted a branch into a leaf crown and walked backward before them, trying the crown on the boy's head at different angles. "Ah, wonderful! Charging asonis—whuff whuff—and now you look just like the kink that chewed up my diary to make a nest."
"Which was your fault for leaving it on a shelf and not writing in it. Explorers have to keep diaries. Doc said so—didn't he, Paul?"
"I'm strictly neutral, to avoid bouncing."
"So anyway, Dunin, when you trip over a root and smack your fanny, I'm going to laugh."
She did. He did....
It was an hour before they overtook Spearman, who glanced back without expression, without halting his powerful strides, his tanned body gleaming with sweat and effort. Dunin sobered; she caught Paul's eyes. She said, "May I carry you, Spearman? Then we can all reach the ship at the same time."
Spearman gave no sign of hearing her. He drew up at the side of the trail, staring at the ground, arms folded. David's face was hidden again at Arek's breast; John seemed to be asleep. Dunin said, "Please? Why should we leave you behind?"
Remote and desolate, Spearman watched the ground. Dunin moved on, reluctantly, no more laughter in her. "What is he thinking?"