Sounds like they got stories to tell, him and her. Digging in his pocket, he comes up with a Woolong coin and tosses it in the air, slapping his hand over it on his wrist.
"Heads or tails, Freckles?"
It ain't that he has nothing to say about her story: Freckles gettin' shot by Dragons breakin' into the hotel might be one of the few things that didn't occur to him during the however-long-it-was he spent trapped in the elevator. Hell, he thought about just about every other damn thing in the whole universe.
"We got a lot to tell, you and me. Whoever gets the call goes first."
Both stories are gonna get told. He hopes she wins the toss, 'cause at the moment it's enough of a good thing to just get to sit here and watch and listen to her, and the way she welcomed him at the door still leaves him all kinda warm and fuzzy. It ain't something he gets to feel real often and he might mock the crap out of it, but he always makes fun of the things he craves.
no subject
"Heads or tails, Freckles?"
It ain't that he has nothing to say about her story: Freckles gettin' shot by Dragons breakin' into the hotel might be one of the few things that didn't occur to him during the however-long-it-was he spent trapped in the elevator. Hell, he thought about just about every other damn thing in the whole universe.
"We got a lot to tell, you and me. Whoever gets the call goes first."
Both stories are gonna get told. He hopes she wins the toss, 'cause at the moment it's enough of a good thing to just get to sit here and watch and listen to her, and the way she welcomed him at the door still leaves him all kinda warm and fuzzy. It ain't something he gets to feel real often and he might mock the crap out of it, but he always makes fun of the things he craves.
Simple self-preservation.
"How's that sound?"