[Just smile and nod, Peter. You'll have an easier life. Corona's real fuckin' weird about their equines. Varian follows Peter quietly, casting a concerned look at the house, his shoulders tense- as if he's waiting for Luna to come charging out regardless. HIs eyes eventually drop to the piles of dirt and something painful wrenches in his chest. He can make a solid guess what those are. He has one of his own in his yard, where the Waste that was his father lies.]

...Were they people you knew?

[He askes before really thinking about it, staring at the piles, before clearing his throat.]

S-sorry. You don't need to answer that. And yeah, I kinda figured he would be. Sounds like you don't have any control over that.