Her mouth goes flat, then crooked as she scowls down at her hands, her fingers in the horse's mane. She wants to hit something, but there's nothing to swing at. Bubbles sure doesn't deserve it and Joel--

Well.

"Yeah but that's bullshit though." And she's emphatic about it, snappish even. She forces herself to let go of the half-finished braid. "Like are you kidding me? We're just going to talk about baseball and like-- I mean who gives a fuck about presidents? It's just pretending that we're not" -- she throws her hands up. To his credit, Bubbles doesn't blink at the sudden movement -- "alone out here."