"Bloody twit," mutters the tiny Andrew atop the console as he carefully navigates the controls in search of the correct display, mindful not to step on any switches.

"I heard that!" The bigger Andrew turns to look at Daine when she grumbles, then starts back in response to the wet nose on his skin. "What?" he asks. "We need directions, I'm too short to reach the controls -- he was going to end up on the console eventually, so why discuss it?"