“Hey, yeah, no worries, man. And if you do want to practice your Spanish you can hit me up anytime.”

"Thanks! Not right now, though. I should actually probably get going and ask more people about their opinions on how I should handle resurrection. Sooner rather than later, you know?" Shrug. "You're definitely fine with bringing Schlatt back? Granted I don't know what to do with him or anyone else after, just. Even prison would be better, at least they'd get visitation."

“I mean, it’s not really my business what you do, is it? If he harasses me I’ll kill him as many times as it takes for him to leave me alone, but other than that, it’s not like his existence is doing anything. Might even be useful, you never know.”

"It affects you. You're allowed to have an opinion about it and want me to have a sense of responsibility about my mad resurrection science," she says, gently. "But just checking. And if he bugs you let me know, okay?"

Quackity scrutinizes her for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, sure, of course. It’s not a problem, though, really. Just a messy breakup. I tried resurrecting him too, once, actually. Didn’t really do anything, but, y’know. I’m not opposed to the idea.”

(Wilbur’s listening in fascination; he raises his eyebrows a little but doesn’t comment. Sam is as impassive as ever.)

"Okay. Anyone else around here I should talk to, or shall I go teleporting off, then?"

Shrug. “You might like Slime? I dunno where exactly he is, though, if I’m being honest, so you might as well teleport around.”

"All right. Do you want me to have a designated teleportation spot for Las Nevadas? ... Oh, damn, I should have thought of that in Snowchester, too. Oh well. I'll ask later."

“Beneath the sign, maybe?”

“Aw, no designated teleportation spot for me? I’m offended.” Wilbur pouts and grabs his chest in mock offense. 

"The you was plural, Wilbur, it's not my fault English is terrible," she snorts.

“I’m not a Las Nevadas citizen! Technically I’m not even allowed in the country. This is outside the borders.” He grins. “I call it Paradise.”

"Give me coordinates and I will show up there instead of just randomly showing up like a creep. Beneath the sign sounds good, Quackity."

“—In front of the burger van? We’re not exactly as big as Las Nevadas, if you show up anywhere nearby we’ll just be happy to see you.”

"Sure, sounds good." She gives a little wave, then looks at Sam. "Ready to go?"

“Sure.”

Boop! Boop! Her first, then Sam, after. So she can make sure the coordinates for him are correct.

"So! Next most populated is the Arctic, I think? Or was it somewhere else?"

“No, you’re correct. The fastest way there is through the Nether.”

"Okay! Then lead on, please."

The nether: really fucking hot. Lots of fire, lots of lava, generally unpleasant. 

Sam leads her on a branching cobblestone path to another portal, and then they exit into the snow. There are two connected houses nearby, as well as a shack, and the overwhelming noise of a lot of animals (both familiar and unfamiliar to her).

"Oh wow, those are some incredibly crowded cows," she says, with a little wince. The other animals seem better off, but the cows are... not in great conditions. "Sorry, cows. Um, hello?" She has to raise her voice a bit to be heard over the din. "Anyone home? I'm kind of new here!"

A middle-aged man with black wings dressed like what she may or may not recognize as an anime character heads out of one of the houses. “Hey, mate! You’re the new person, right?”

"Hi! I am. I'm Yvette, nice to meet you."

“Nice to meet you too! D’you need supplies or anything, I think we’ve got some spare if you do.”

"Aw! No thank you, I'm all ri—good heavens what happened to your wings?"

Because he has them. But they're... more than a little shredded.