Gavroche seems quite pleased with his place on the wrought iron chair putting him above everyone else. He swings his legs off the edge, smiling as he pulls a small brightly colored paper box from his pocket.

"Kid soldiers," Scout says, looking at the ground as he answers.

"We all fought for different stuff. I fought the krauts when they took over France." Gavroche pulls a colored paper cylinder from the box before pulling out a match, striking it to light the cylinder. It smells like a sour, bitter version of Coyote's peace pipe, and Gravroche takes a deep suck from the end. "And Pétain, the traitor. Hope the worms ate him."

Gavroche waves his cigarette at Scout. "But I was just a spy. Not like Scout's war. Scout did real killing with his dad. Lots of people!"

Scout grimaces, looking vaguely queasy. "I feel weird bragging about it."

"And Stab... we dunno what's going on with Stab, he doesn't talk." Gavroche waves at Stab, still hidden in his coat. Despite the grim topic of conversation, he's as cheerful as if he's recounting a ball game he and his friends played. "Buuuuut we're pretty sure they just sent him and a bunch of other orphans ahead of the army so they could soak up all the ammo and there wouldn't be any left to kill the grownup soldiers behind them."