"Clover? Nice name." Orion leant forward to light his cigarette in much the same way, taking a long drag from it before blowing it out away from Bitsy. It was only his first night at the circus so there would be time to meet people. His grandmother insisted that he try new things while under the protection since his opportunities had been limited once they moved from the Balkans. America sucked for temporary jobs and while it had been fairly easy to set up some stereotyped piece of shit future-reading sessions for lonely housewives, a part of Orion had been intrigued by the idea that the Cirque might lead to more actual adventures.
"You should come by tomorrow night. Our trailer has a kitchen for her so she doesn't have to interrupt the cooks for the main crew. She's making Punjene paprike," Orion said his accent thick when speaking anything but English. "Baba Violette might glare at you for some time, but I'm sure she'll get over it once you prove that you don't want to eat anyone."
Bitsy giggled. "I get to cook once a week and Baba teaches me new recipes each time. And I can have my own trailer one day that my animals gather around and my friends sing and dance while we enjoy food... like back home."