IANTO
”Oh, I dunno, anything else?” Ianto suggests with a musical laugh, placing the pipe between his lips and patting his pockets for a match, striking it up and holding it to the tobacco. A few puffs later and fragrant smoke fills the air, reminiscent of the Greatwood and all the bizarre things that go along with it. Another chuckle leaves him at the indication that his visit was ill timed, the fox only able to nod in agreement.
”I was told Torchline was sunny. And hot,” he reminds the Alchemist. ”You didn’t say anything about a bloody monsoon. When does it hit? Ought I hunker down for the rest of the season?” He offers the pipe out for Remi, exhaling a smoke ring into the air. ”Me? I’m just grand, Remi. Gotta keep myself busy to make sure I stay out of trouble.” He, too, remembers their last conversation. ”...I’m a lot better, than I was.”
”I was told Torchline was sunny. And hot,” he reminds the Alchemist. ”You didn’t say anything about a bloody monsoon. When does it hit? Ought I hunker down for the rest of the season?” He offers the pipe out for Remi, exhaling a smoke ring into the air. ”Me? I’m just grand, Remi. Gotta keep myself busy to make sure I stay out of trouble.” He, too, remembers their last conversation. ”...I’m a lot better, than I was.”
i know places we can hide
