From Tybalt's perspective, Uriah peeks from behind the bee, oblivious. He moves cautiously, creeping and weaving through the rising and falling carousel bees. His back is to Uriah as he peeks behind one of the honeycomb booths. He can't see any sign of Tybalt, but his heart's still slamming against his chest. The adrenaline in his blood has his hands trembling. He can't catch his breath.

He ignores all of it.

Tybalt, Tybalt, where the fuck is Tybalt.