"I don't need no glowsticks," Pickman says quickly. He taps the side of his head with one long nail. "I got my eyes." Which means, of course, that someone else can take his share. He's trying to be helpful, in his own way. "So, ah -- I can take the basket?" It smells strongly, strongly of sugar... hardly the most appealing thing in the world for a ghoul, but he imagines that for an ant...

"'less one've you trackin' want it. Bait, maybe, yeah?"