Before Siana could open her mouth to answer, Prichard came trotting up on his chocobo behind them, half a sandwich in his hands and the other half in his mouth, crumbs sprinkling down upon the chocobo's neck.
"Sorry I'm late, the line was--oh." He stopped and fell into an awkward silence, clearly perturbed by the tension between the two women.
"It's fine," Siana snapped, pushing her chocobo forward. "Maria was just doing your job for you. Good luck to you then, at the exhibition." She might as well offer those words to her anyway.