He blinked. "I'm sorry, you -- ...you did what?"
She giggled a bit. "I buried it."
"Oh." Rubbed at his forehead. "...what?"
She laughed again, pulled on his sleeve. "I buried it!"
"It -- why?" He should be upset about this. He should be feeling frustated with her, but it was all so -- bizarre he had a hard time feeling any emotion at all. He rubbed at his forehead again.
"That's what you do," she said more insistently.
He closed his eyes, breathed in deeply and opened them again. She was still standing there in front of him, watching him intensely, a hesitant smile on her face. "I don't understand," he said carefully.
"Bury them," she said, like he should know what she was talking about. "You bury hatchets."
"River -- " he started. Blinked a little, mouth still open, and wasn't sure what to tell her. Wasn't sure how she was today. "You can't bury things. We're -- we're on a boat, and in space." There weren't any hatchets in the entire ship either, he was almost sure.
She frowned at him a little, shook her head. "I buried it. I buried it," and she sounded like she was pleading with him now, pleading to be understood. He wondered sometimes if she even understood herself.
"You can't --" he started again and then changed tactics. "Where? Can you show me?" She smiled at that, like she had when they were younger and she'd managed to convince him to do something. It was a game, and she'd never lost.
She tugged at his arm, leading him through the ship. "Where --" he stumbled -- "Where are we going?" She didn't answer, and then he recognized where she was taking him. To her room.
She opened the door and he stood awkwardly in the middle while she dug something out from under her bed. It was a box.
She gave it to him and he smiled at her. Buried the hatchet. Opened it carefully and looked in --
A pair of scissors, carefully placed, and beside them, a pile of wiry grey hair.