[ she can still run: that's good; the laugh is a — well, peter will take it as a win, even if she's absolutely judging his attempt at injecting something other than sheer terror into the situation. ] Yeah, yeah, everyone's a critic and it wasn't my best, but in my defence, I didn't have a whole lot to work with. [ there's a breath of a pause because yes, please, let us move on from embarrassment and awkwardness (mostly): ] A side note: if you're new to the 'being attacked by strange, sentient, but definitively not human beings' thing, yelling stop generally doesn't work.

[ and people-saving slash team-ups? like that sort of, almost failed attempt right there, just before his awful joke? those tend to go better when one of the participating members isn't totally blind-sided by someone wielding sticky webfluid, peter benjamin parker, which is to say: he's silent for a moment as he inwardly acknowledges the fact that the 'stop' may have been directed more at him than at the spirits.

(but again with the moving on—). his attention shifts to the stones as she drops a couple more and whilst peter's not entirely sure what they're for (they're not exactly re-enacting hansel and gretel here — are they? god, he hopes not, because that definitely ended with someone dying and he's really not a massive fan of Bad Endings), he assumes there's a tried and tested purpose to them. there's a pointed glance between them and her — or as pointed as it can be given the lack of light and the — everything, before: ] —But I'm going to guess this isn't your first experience with running for your life in a dark, creepy forest? [ beat. ] —The stones, are they...? [ punctuated by a vague hand back towards them, as if to say 'please fill this in, because I don't really know what you're doing with those, other than leading the spirits possibly straight towards us.' ]