Lemm is--

--over there.

He isn't wrong; they don't want crowding. They don't want company.

And that isn't fair to Lemm. They brought him here, they are friends, they try to be--benevolent. They wish they could spit that word like an Aspid.

They don't want him to feel like they're upset with him. They don't want to upset him more than they likely have.

When the Tram rumbles to a stop, they don't get up. Their Wings untangle themselves from the seat, and they scoot over, staring down at their lap.

An invitation. If he likes.