Nursey rolled his eyes and refused to take the poetry bait. Mostly because he had started two different poems in his head today and didn't want to give Dex the satisfaction of being right. He lifted his chin and scratched idly at the artful scruff on his jawline with his knuckles, careful of the fork in his hand.
"I-d-k, bro. Lynch, the scowling one playing goalie for us? He talks about things like he dreamt them into reality." He shrugged and ate the last bite of his pie with a happy little groan of satisfaction. Setting the plate down on the ground, he brushed his hands off on his jeans and thought over Dex's question. "I mean it's weird. But the people are chill. Why, has somebody been giving you a hard time?"