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There's a pond! Or a little bit of sea, anyway. It's weird.

Though perhaps not as weird as the big earth bunker. Claire met the girl who made the big earth bunker. There was sarcasm, and lots of suspicious question. Claire doesn't think she's liked much in that quarter.

But now she's nowhere near the big earth bunker nor the house with Sylar-who-will-be in it, and out by the pond, sitting near the edge as she re-reads her book on Evolution.

Mr Muggles is crouching at the edge of the pond, occasionally barking at it.

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Will points to the tentacle,

"See, tis somethin' in there, milady. An dinna think tis a spring, they're usually cleaner least the ones in Sherwood are."

Claire peers at the tentacle.

Mr. Muggles is picked up and set a little way away from the pond.

"Maybe this is a special dirty volcanic spring?"

"Aye, well guess could be milady just thought volcanoes were taller an tisna any 'ills round 'ere barely any trees."

He's just going to look awkward and at Mr. Muggles and blink a lot,

"Is that supposed to be a dog?"

Claire, who has no positionfrom which to argue geology, stares at him with mild offence.

"Yes, he's a dog!"

Will's used to dogs being larger and good at taking down boar or deer and blushes and looks even more awkeward,

"Just 'e's so small, milady. Is 'e for chasin' rats?"

"No," she says. "He's a pet. He's not for anything."

A week ago she would have made fun of Pomeranians with anyone. Now he's her only family.

Time to fiddle with bandages,

"Oh aye, milady, just well um, only know nobles who 'ave dogs who are just pets is all."

"Well, good for you."

It's possible Claire misunderstood this to imply he was lucky enough to know nobles. She stops being so irritable when she notices the bandages, though.

"He belongs to my Mom," she offers.

He has no idea what he's done well, more fiddling. Lucky to know nobles would bring out fun bitterness and all, so its best he doesn't pick up on that,

"Um aye, milady, 'e looks sweet."

"He is," she admits, and because she's naturally honest adds, "a yappy little thing, though."

"Well, milady, at that size be surprised if 'e wasna."

Will knows about dogs, sort of.

"Do you have dogs?"

Claire can do conversation, really.

Time to fiddle with bandages again,

"Um nay, milady, though used to 'elp Robin with the dogs 'fore..."

There are vague painful hand gestures to mean, he became an outlaw and things got bad.

Claire takes them to mean 'something bad'. It's OK, she has a before as well.

"Who's Robin?"

"Robin o'Locksley, milady."

Maybe she's heard of him, maybe not, more fiddling, Conway said they're heroes but that might have just been Conway.

Getting the impression she's supposed to have heard of him, Claire frowns.

"Robin of...wait, Robin Hood?"

Claire made Will match his hair,

"Um aye, milady, I'm Will Scarlett, one o''is men."

"No way," Claiure repeats. "That's unbelievable. You're the most famous outlaws ever."

"Na the most famous, milady, know we're infamous an all, just dinna understand this world. Fell 'ere from Nottingham an tis all strange an mean Robin should be famous cause 'e's a 'ero."

Claire understands about half of that, and her puzzled look shows it.

"He's the most famous," she says. "But all of you get mentioned in the movies. You were Christian Slater. Who was a really famous actor in the nineties."

Will has about the same luck with what she said, somehow they'll figure out conversation, also lots of blushing,

"Movies, milady?"

"Right."

Well done, Claire, blind him with technology.

"Moving pictures, that tell a story. We kind of invented a way of recording actors and showing it over and over again across the world."

He's just going to blink a lot as he tries to picture it before well more blinking,

"Oh aye, milady an they've done things like that 'bout us?"

"Oh yeah," Claire confirms, nodding.

She hesitates, and adds, "none of them were any good."

"But show that Robin's a 'ero, aye?"

That's what counts after all in the end, that's the truth that counts.