miscommunication
“I do not understand,” Teyla says, brow furrowed in obvious bafflement. “You told me the Wraith had never visited your world, and yet you called Sergeant Tanner a Runner. Do your people do this to each other?”
“No, no-” John blurts, horrified by the thought, by Teyla having this thought. “He’s a runner, not a Runner.” This clearly makes no difference to her. “Um. He runs for fun.” In the hot, hot sun, his Seuss-warped brain supplies, but repeating that aloud would likely only add to the confusion. “Just runs. No one chases him.”
“Oh.”
“Aren’t there any races around here?”
“Oh,” she says again, and then, mouth quirking into the subtlest of smiles, “Yes, but usually the contestants are called ‘idiots who don’t know when to come in under the shade to lie down’.”
It takes a moment for John to process that, the language still new and strange and sharp-edged in his head, but then he starts laughing-more out of relief than at the joke. At least their new allies have a sense of humor, though it looks to be a very odd one.
“No, no-” John blurts, horrified by the thought, by Teyla having this thought. “He’s a runner, not a Runner.” This clearly makes no difference to her. “Um. He runs for fun.” In the hot, hot sun, his Seuss-warped brain supplies, but repeating that aloud would likely only add to the confusion. “Just runs. No one chases him.”
“Oh.”
“Aren’t there any races around here?”
“Oh,” she says again, and then, mouth quirking into the subtlest of smiles, “Yes, but usually the contestants are called ‘idiots who don’t know when to come in under the shade to lie down’.”
It takes a moment for John to process that, the language still new and strange and sharp-edged in his head, but then he starts laughing-more out of relief than at the joke. At least their new allies have a sense of humor, though it looks to be a very odd one.