Tarn knows that he’s won when Spinister doesn’t immediately shoot back a rebuttal. He tries not to seem to smug about it. Instead, he simply scoots over to allow the heli more space by the fire.

“As you wish.”

Tarn wastes no time in picking up the brush and sweeping at the thin coating of dirt covering Spinister’s shoulders, quickly working to his upper back and around the mechanisms holding his rotor blades in place.