"Thanks, Dove." Wilcar barely had sight of the food before he'd speared a large chunk of beef and unceremoniously shoved the whole piece into his mouth. He lazily scrolled through the thread, chewing slowly as he went. His brain and his jaw worked on an inverse ratio. The more one worked, the less the other did. Ari could probably tell when he got to an interesting bit, because his mouth would stop working for a moment and his right eyebrow would twitch.
He took a big swallow and stared at the screen for a single, intense moment. "Drake writes on this?" Although, now that he thought about it for a second (since he'd stopped speaking), it was something you could do while laying down in a tree. So, it made sense kinda. Sorta. In its own way.