“Do people really? Accuse you of being a stalker, I mean. It’s not in line with your actions, so far.”

Angel steps out of the trees, but still avoids crowding Tarantulas. Wary? Polite? It’s hard to say immediately. He isn’t blinking, though, and seems to be trying to figure out eye contact with so many eyes. Eye contact is important, right? Staring at people with a heavy face shows interest, right?

“Me, sure. I’m used to watching from a distance and not interacting. This island is the first place I’ve been given the opportunity to exist in community with people before. So, stalker, yeah, I’ll take it.”