Sense of duty could only carry her so far, and at the edge of the forest, she finally voiced her opinion.
"This is stupid," Quistis declared.
Squall either didn't hear her or didn't care (the same thing, really, with him, she thought) and kept walking. Selphie, realizing Quistis had stopped moving, grabbed Squall by the arm and dragged him back. He stood looking at her for a long moment.
"It's pointless," she added.
Squall blinked once. "Scouting," he said, finality in his voice, conversation closed. He turned to head back into the forest but Selphie reestablished her death grip on his arm. Faced with the dislocation of his shoulder, he relented and stared at Quistis again.
"You know what else is good for scouting?" Quistis asked. "A spaceship. An actual spaceship. Like the one we have parked right over there!" She jabbed with a finger to highlight the point. "Up in the air, look around, and we're done. I'll even fly the damn thing."
"C'mon," Selphie said, "we've already done the spaceship thing. This'll be fun. The wind in your hair, it'll be like riding a motorcycle! You can even ride with—"
Quistis shot Selphie a murderous look and interrupted her. "They're not motorcycles," she said, the pitch of her voice rising slightly in desperation, "they're… they're overgrown pigeons!" She spat the last word with as much venom as she could muster.
A burst of static in her ear as Zell came on the earpiece. "Actually, they're very clean," he explained, "and they carry no diseases communicable to—"
"Cram it, Zell," Quistis muttered under her breath, yanking the earpiece out and stuffing it in her pocket, switching it off as she did so.
"Aww, I think they're cute," Selphie said, swaying a little as she spoke. "And yellow! They're yellow!" She pointed a finger at Quistis, the gesture authoritative, as if it fully settled the debate.
"I don't care if they're yellow," Quistis hissed, speaking through clenched teeth, "it's pointless and a waste of time and I—"
Squall took an audible breath, a sound verging on a sigh, and Quistis' mouth snapped shut. "Commander," he said, turning to leave again.
Quistis slumped, defeated, outranked.
Selphie turned to follow Squall, skipping ahead of him into the forest. She threw her arms around the neck of one of the stupid beasts, and it warked back in insipid glee.
Quistis followed them, her steps slow and measured, a convict taking the long walk. She could feel it building within her, an inescapable pressure, a volcanic urge seeking violent expression.
From the back of the one he'd selected, Squall looked down at her. She approached one of them, Selphie giving her an encouraging pat on the back.
She looked into the cold, dead eyes of the animal and it looked back at her. A moment passed while she regarded her nemesis.
She sneezed.
Selphie's eyes went wide. "Are you—"
"Shut up, Selphie," Quistis growled.
A second sneezed ruined the effect.