"So some novels and books got it right then," he asked, then finished the thought, "that's a surprise." Clarkie brought a hand up to his mouth to bite on his cuticle. The action was pure impulse when he didn't have much else to occupy his hands or mouth when he had a lot on his mind. It helped him think. In this case, it helped him think of what Arthur was saying and what it meant to him in the long term.

He nodded. There was a part of him, that curious part of him, that wanted to reach out and feel the connection, feel that bond with the point man. He could... it was like he could almost taste it right there in the back of his mind. But he resisted for the time being and brought his hand back down to his side.

"All of that and more," he said, looking at Arthur. "Other than the blood, I haven't eaten anything in two... three days? And you -- are you...?" Hungry? Needing anything? Not that Clarkie could exactly offer up anything since Arthur had to basically feed him in order to survive the night.