It's a remark to stir a real look. He'd skimmed the edge of the woods for the paths that had lured him forward, rounded the perimeter of the lurid little fair (twice!) -- but for the first time since he'd woken to a strange, bristling forest at his back, Keith looks at the actual carnival. Here a reeling shadow, there a prize hazy beneath a stagelight, but -

". . . not a lot of people, is there." And then, because some thoughts roll from mind to tongue in an unbroken circuit -- his brows twitch. "And they look pretty -- human."