ISLA
"Do you know, I think of you whenever I eat calamari?" Isla informs Remi, her amusement palpable in her tone. Feeling as though the Hanged Man is a little too close to home and still reeling from the fact that she's having lunch with Remi Taliesin, the man who didn't remember her until like two hours ago, the Remedy sits comfortably cross legged on her side of the picnic bench.
They're at some seafood shack, seated at a table outside with a beach umbrella plonked in the sand to shade them, and the food is plentiful and humble and Isla is very into it, which might be a surprise given her duchess beginnings. At present she's busy cracking open a lobster claw with a pebble, pausing to reach for the margarita she'd ordered with it. "And not in that way, either," she adds as she takes a drink, knowing his likely association with the tentacles of her comment.
They're at some seafood shack, seated at a table outside with a beach umbrella plonked in the sand to shade them, and the food is plentiful and humble and Isla is very into it, which might be a surprise given her duchess beginnings. At present she's busy cracking open a lobster claw with a pebble, pausing to reach for the margarita she'd ordered with it. "And not in that way, either," she adds as she takes a drink, knowing his likely association with the tentacles of her comment.
she's a runner
rebel, and a stunner
rebel, and a stunner
