Years 'n years, I bet. Maybe hundreds and thousands of 'em; you're right, who knows? Only thing that matters is how long we got before we're the same.

[ Now that he's got ahold of himself, he slows to walk side-by-side with Cecil. Not rushing. The heavy reality of what's happened and what's about to happen is still settling, scattered around his thoughts like a bad fog, but he's going to focus on monster watching with Cecil and-- he's going to survive. ]

It's somethin' to do. Not like we have television around here.

[ Mindless distractions are crazy difficult to come by and sorely needed. ]