Marco had started to reach for his shoe again, ready to chuck it out the now-open window, but frowned when he was given instructions not to and folded his arms under his chin. "Okay."
He watched Erran, considering waiting for him to sit again before talking, but deciding against it in case he forgot what he wanted to say. "I haven't done Thanksgiving in years," he mumbled. "Think we'll do it here? We can do, um, birthday-Thanksgiving. But... Do you eat turkey? I thought you don't eat meat."