That's fine, you go on ahead. I'll keep an eye out for the pigs.

[And maybe see if he can work the lock open with his picks, though he's not expecting it. It's practice, though.]

You wind up with more'n you can hold, just roll stuff under to me an' I'll get it on the bike. Or throw it over, I dunno.

[Or break a fucking hole in it with her weird fucking powers. Cool ones, yeah, but damn. Maybe that's what he should be doing, practicing his own shit, but he can't figure out how to access it without that background cosmic hum - or the purr of his bike engine on a long open road where he can let go of everything else.

Oh well. Lockpicking, it is, while listening to those distant sirens. So far, so good.]