[ Not the weirdest gesture Vidal’s ever received by a long shot, but he still shifts irritably at the principle of it, and makes a point of pinching the end of that tail between forefinger and thumb to move it at least off his shoes. ]

[ Cranking that insincere little simper up to 11, ] The simple heartwarming satisfaction of sharing knowledge with your fellow man— The fuck do you want from me? —You know what, don't answer that.

[ He does not need to know the answer or the something. He's turning right back to stare off over the field, flipping back to his camera... Great, where's the lynel gone off to... ]