[The hanging end of that sentence could mean... so many things. Mikey glances at Casey, then back to Peter. The box turtle smiles gently and holds up a finger to Casey. Letting him watch the orange mystic magic swirl out from the fingertip and dance around Casey's head for a second before setting over his head like headphones, muffling the noise and giving Casey some peace.]
no subject
He can't hear us. Not well anyway.