Ghoul scoots in closer. He's typically not tall enough to peer over anyone's shoulder, ever, but he somehow manages to sneak a peek at the screen without getting close enough to actually touch. The same can't be said for the dog, however. It's close enough to attempt a lick or ten in the direction of Oliver's elbow, but Ghoul doesn't seem to care. Not his elbow, not his problem.

Sometimes it's easier for him to absorb information if he can see it laid out in black and white- or, in this case, in cartoony digital map colors. He speaks up once he's verified the directions as legit. "Okay, I got it." Then he takes a step or two back, giving them both breathing room again. "Thanks, guy. You ain't so bad after all."