[ It's the squawk that breaks him, all his somber drama giving way to peals of laughter while they make their way off the crates. The seagulls scream and scatter and swoop back in, trying to stay close to the food but far from the giants holding it at the same time. The crowd milling around Ye Olde Starrbuckes turns to look, all at once, with varied expressions of confusion and amusement and exhausted judgment.
Bastien turns on his heels to fling his handful of bread-bits in an arc behind them. The gulls descend. They aren't pursued at all, on their run down the street, but Bastien still pulls By sharply into a side alley and presses him against the wall to hide. Breathless and still grinning, despite some attempts around the eyebrows and in his voice to be serious and dramatic again: ]
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Bastien turns on his heels to fling his handful of bread-bits in an arc behind them. The gulls descend. They aren't pursued at all, on their run down the street, but Bastien still pulls By sharply into a side alley and presses him against the wall to hide. Breathless and still grinning, despite some attempts around the eyebrows and in his voice to be serious and dramatic again: ]
Were we followed?