Faraday, in the meanwhile, can feel color creeping up his own neck. He isn't the type to embarrass easily by any means, but this situation is distinctly—

Well. It's distinctly peculiar, and Faraday can certainly say he's never faced as unique a problem as this.

"You were makin' enough noise to rouse the dead," he grumbles, gaze darting away to the campfire – now little more than a few dying flames and embers. For a man who typically always had some quip at the ready, Faraday finds it difficult to collect his thoughts or to find something particularly witty to say.