Even the idea of being back in an organized lifestyle, in that organized lifestyle feels foreign when Torrie imagines what the halls look like with the Capitol patrolmen walking through. It hasn’t been more than a year in the tunnels, but months feel like ages and time doesn’t always seem to pass the same way. But at least there are men, and maybe with enough skill to extinguish one more danger. Theo’s methods have always been difficult to comprehend, but there’s no denying that his observational skills are unmatched by most people. If he thinks that he’ll find something everyone else missed by backtracking then Torrie isn’t going to say boo about whether or not she thinks it’s a waste of time.
Her lip curls at the salty smell of the olives, a reaction that isn't usual, but smells always have been one of the things she's most reactionary to when she's in withdrawal. The way the smell of salt turns her stomach passes quickly though, and even if it hadn't she wasn't going to tell Sol he couldn't eat them. "Could break his neck," Torrie states instead, in response to him, as flippant as Sol was with his shrug. "If you wanted to." It's not going to come to that probably, UMCB isn't brutality and unlawful violence. If it were happening in the tunnels though it would be a very, very different story.
Knowing that Lita has a detail, that she's been targeted makes her scowl into her box of cookies, the muscles in her jaw tense and her shoulders tight as she straightens a little. "Like she's some red herring?" she asks, skeptical at the idea that there's redirection of some kind, but she's always trusted his intuition. "Would I get a detail if I was there?" For a lot of reasons Torrie knows she shouldn't ask that, their very recent conversation at the top of that list, but just because it shouldn't be asked or said hasn't ever stopped Torrie from letting words escape her mouth. Her shoulders relax, not because she isn't still upset but because the effort of keeping them tense is making her upper body tremble worse than before. "They haven't asked you if you want a guard?" she continues on like she never asked the first question, like she didn't poke at a sore spot, her eyes locked on her brother again.
"God, I could just imagine you with three or four shadows." It's a little absurd really, makes her smile a little at the corners of her mouth. Solomon who relishes his freedom with a detail of men; it wouldn't be his style. But she's still curious about whether they've asked him.