You stroll out of your hive when the sun sinks behind the horizon, the fresh colors of the surrounding trees a perfect lavender glow in the dark and stretch your limbs till you can hear the joints creak. What a night for a date in the good old courtroom scribbled on your walls.

When you gather the jury for the hearing on Dr. Grape-eyes's scandels, recently uncovered after a long and tiring investigation, the echo of a trollian message alert rings out from your husktop.

Terezi: Answer.