"And you look way too innocent, Miss I-Got-Me-This-Great-Idea." The smirk on his face is smug, though. "Won't take me too damn long to get all hot and dirty back there. Specially if you want to lend a hand."
Life, he figures, ain't nothing without a daily challenge or two and who better to tangle with than the Boar Expert herself? "You know, Freckles, all we got to do is wait for the rain. I know a great mud pit. Feel like wrestling? Or hell, maybe a wet t-shirt contest?"
But he gives her a wry grin and shakes his head. Honestly, if she hadn't brought it up he wouldn't think of going back to that shit. After all, he was one of the ones who tried to get away on the raft. He knows what people think of him, and he don't much care: never has, never will. Whatever he does -- however he acts -- he's got his reasons. And if Freckles wasn't going back, he wouldn't be all suspicious of why she's going back, and he wouldn't be sitting here wondering what happens to time if they're both here from the same moment and one of them goes back and the other one stays.
He might have dropped out of school in ninth grade but that don't make him stupid. One thing he's always done is read -- a lot -- about everything. Some of the finer mathematical points of quantum physics might elude his grasp, but he gets it conceptually. He knows about vacuums and wormholes and voids. The past sixty or so days of his life back there have been kind of a gigantic void, and he ain't none to eager to spark out of existence because of some flaw in the damn time/space continuum.
"When you want to go?" Hopefully not before he finishes this beer and dirties down a little.
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Life, he figures, ain't nothing without a daily challenge or two and who better to tangle with than the Boar Expert herself? "You know, Freckles, all we got to do is wait for the rain. I know a great mud pit. Feel like wrestling? Or hell, maybe a wet t-shirt contest?"
But he gives her a wry grin and shakes his head. Honestly, if she hadn't brought it up he wouldn't think of going back to that shit. After all, he was one of the ones who tried to get away on the raft. He knows what people think of him, and he don't much care: never has, never will. Whatever he does -- however he acts -- he's got his reasons. And if Freckles wasn't going back, he wouldn't be all suspicious of why she's going back, and he wouldn't be sitting here wondering what happens to time if they're both here from the same moment and one of them goes back and the other one stays.
He might have dropped out of school in ninth grade but that don't make him stupid. One thing he's always done is read -- a lot -- about everything. Some of the finer mathematical points of quantum physics might elude his grasp, but he gets it conceptually. He knows about vacuums and wormholes and voids. The past sixty or so days of his life back there have been kind of a gigantic void, and he ain't none to eager to spark out of existence because of some flaw in the damn time/space continuum.
"When you want to go?" Hopefully not before he finishes this beer and dirties down a little.