"Don't be so sure," Hopeless said teasingly, and poked Erskine's stomach gently. "You've been letting yourself go. You might need to work harder, day-dreamer." He turned without waiting for the inevitable response. They had all 'let themselves go' in one way or another. Saracen's version was Hopeless's favourite.

"Of course I'm plotting something," he tossed over his shoulder as he walked away toward the little 'faery bower'. "How dare you doubt me."

Like the rest, he was in something more suitable for work-clothes, but he still managed to seem slight and reserved in them. Maybe it was the fact they were slightly rumpled, but not actively dirty like the others'.