[How can you be that narrow and still somehow in everybody's way? Prior watches Merlin approach with the occasional wince as someone's elbow connects with somewhere soft, and wonders if this jumbled-backward world's invented enough cotton wool to wrap him in, yet. He's laughing by the final ungainly jog, shaking his head.]

Horribly late. In fact I only stayed here so I could discredit you in the street for making a girl wait so long. Why I must look like someone with nothing better to do.

[Merlin won't know what a southern accent is, which is a shame, as the one Prior affects is so perfectly suited for these dramatics. It's dropped a moment later in favor of his own voice, as an elbow's offered out to be taken.]

And that would be all too true. You're right on time.