"I am a failure at many kinds of grammar, so I'm not a great resource, butI think it's 'pretty well,' yeah." He sat up straighter, picking up his camera and sketchbook so that he could sit on the table next to Johnny instead of continue laying down on the cold, hard ground. "You singe your gloves? You should get fingerless ones, and really look the part of moody musician. I have a pair. And, um, not really. I was going to draw stuff, but it didn't go very far, and then I just kind of stayed there." He shrugged as if it wasn't out of the ordinary, and it really wasn't, for him.