Samuel caught Lia's look, and immediately passed Brighid one of his own. It might have been apology; it might have been a repetition of his earlier plea for aid. It had been a mistake to come here, to mingle with those from such clearly different walks of life. Samuel could not begin to understand their wild ramblings, and indeed found he had little desire to. He had come for lunch, he thought, and it seemed he had stumbled into a LARPing meetup instead. Carefully and deliberately he finished the slice of pita bread in his hand, sucking a smudge of hummus from his fingertip. This he chased with a long pull from his beer, signalling to the waitress for a second well before the first was empty.
"Maybe you are all a little sick," he said, making an earnest - but failed - effort to bleed the amusement from his voice. "Not all illness manifests as mono or a cold, you know." He shrugged. "Make an appointment with a psychologist. Then your GP. Seriously, guys."