By the time Ruckus replies, Kellen is nearly convinced he won't. Not that he could be said to be on edge with waiting for it; in the meantime he's lit that joint and taken a few draws on it, and the day's tensions have been exhaled along with the smoke, leaving his lean form sunk deeper into the pillows behind him and his ever-changing eyes lazily hooded, a sedate deep blue. At the eventual answer, he turns to peer again at his bed-mate, an eyebrow arched in expectation of an explanation he knows he won't get.

If he did get it, he likely couldn't decipher it, so he blows the whole thing off.

"Never seen any dolphin puppets," he responds instead, letting his gaze trail pseudo-thoughtfully to the ceiling. "...but there is that one vibe he's got, dolphin-shaped, at the top at least, and curved some just so..."

The kid trails off in favor of taking another draw off his joint, and in favor of recalling the last time that dolphin made an appearance. Unfortunately, he hasn't smoked quite enough to follow that train of thought with complete disregard to his surroundings or company; even more unfortunately, he recalls the last time Ruckus made an appearance. The man was unarguably in much better shape then and, judging from the noises that kept Kellen up the better part of the night, in a very vigorous state of health. This memory, the boy cuts off quickly, closing his eyes tight for a second. "But I guess you'd know all 'bout that stuff."