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He shrugged. "I don't know. What do you think?"
He laughed. "I suppose you're right," he said. "Who would take care of Finn, though?"
"I would be very sad, but keep looking. I wouldn't mind being by myself in that time, y'know."
"Dusty? Why's that?"
"Yeah. It will be a lot quicker, though, since it's easily moldable."
"Hmm, probably not. It'd be more like 'hey, that's a pretty handsome guy! What an imagination I have! I wonder if he exists' and then I would...
He raised an eyebrow. "Jokes on you. I was just going to sit here forever and gather dust anyways."
"Do we have wood? You'd think clay would work easier."
She shook her head. "I would conjure up a picture in my mind, and it'd be you."
"Good," he said, reaching up to give her a hug.
"What do I need to do?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"I don't think I would like that. I wouldn't rather be with anyone else."
He looked up at her, his head tilted slightly. "Everything good?"
"The hands could. I mean, they may have a lot of bones, but it shouldn't be too hard." He leaned back.
"It's amazing," she agreed, kissing his cheek. "It puts things into perspective, really."
He nodded. "I'll wait right here."
"Whichever is easiest," he decided. "Does that work?'
"Living, I suppose. Being alive with you is a better way to put it, though."
His hand grazed her cheek, and he smiled. "No problem."
He took it and looked it over. "I like to work to take my mind off of things."
