When his hiding spot decides to move, Spin turns his narrow glare on Tarn instead. He's stopped hissing at least, and he almost seems to consider the look his partner shoots him.

Then he puffs air out his vents.

"Nah, he can keep the spot," Spinister says. "'Cause it's a dump. Like his face."

"Let's leave." Without waiting for an answer, the heli grabs Tarn by his arm and tries to urge him along. "I don't like this place and I don't him neither."