I think I can manage being collateral damage
Everest’s cheek colours beneath the brush of her lips, but he doesn’t flinch. In fact, his hand—still hovering, palm-up—briefly curls around hers once she steps back, grounding himself in the moment like a skyship checking in before takeoff. "Thank you," he murmurs, casting a glance downward as if to double-check what he’s wearing before glancing back at her.
He pauses when he fully takes her in—her dress, her braid, the sunlit curve of her hat. A quiet, unspoken smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "You’re very thoroughly prepared," he notes. "And you look like the personification of a botanical field sketch. Mid-bloom." Which was to say, beautiful.
Then, as if to reset the pace, he carefully releases her hand and retrieves his notebook from the satchel, tucking it under one arm as they begin walking. "There’s a vendor three rows north of the spice aisle who sells offcuts from boat repairs. Mostly Torchline native hardwoods—dense grain, water-worn." His steps are slow and even beside hers, careful to match pace without needing to watch her feet. "I also want to look at some of the cedar being brought in from the Greatwood. For contrast. I thought we could note touch response, scent, pliability. And maybe rate them one to ten?"
A brief glance her way—wry, but hopeful. "Unless you think a letter scale would be more helpful?
He pauses when he fully takes her in—her dress, her braid, the sunlit curve of her hat. A quiet, unspoken smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "You’re very thoroughly prepared," he notes. "And you look like the personification of a botanical field sketch. Mid-bloom." Which was to say, beautiful.
Then, as if to reset the pace, he carefully releases her hand and retrieves his notebook from the satchel, tucking it under one arm as they begin walking. "There’s a vendor three rows north of the spice aisle who sells offcuts from boat repairs. Mostly Torchline native hardwoods—dense grain, water-worn." His steps are slow and even beside hers, careful to match pace without needing to watch her feet. "I also want to look at some of the cedar being brought in from the Greatwood. For contrast. I thought we could note touch response, scent, pliability. And maybe rate them one to ten?"
A brief glance her way—wry, but hopeful. "Unless you think a letter scale would be more helpful?
.
