Following the White Rabbit

[Raffe]

Cruz walked off. The next time Raffe blinked, Sage had strung his arm about his shoulders. He grinned weakly. “How long have I got left to kill?” A poor turn of phrase, really, but he laughed it off. He didn’t want to go home to wait; time would either stick like treacle, else he’d fall asleep. He didn’t much want to be alone either. “Anywhere will do.”