Really, what he should have done was ignore the voice and keep going as if he hadn't heard. He should have walked away and not looked back because all that was there was a person he knew and the memories associated with her and the memories associated with memories, none of which he wanted to be reminded of or bother with. It was just a reflex, a habit that was burned into every person as a child, the instinct to turn and see when your name was called. So he stopped and he turned, coyote ears wide, but only semi-alert. He already knew who was there.
Yes?
was all he could come up with for a response. What else was there? He could already predict where their conversation would go because the memories were already there, and it seemed as if all of their conversations went very much the same way. It was routine, and even his half-hearted apathy had become part of it. It didn't matter if he tried to ignore or tried to plow through it or anything else; it would happen, and that was that.