zephyr
Okay, so we're sitting. The shadow passes, pulled together into a lanky yet familiar mass that settles onto the sand beside you. He pulls out a mess of fabric and string, making you snort in amusement at the rather piss-poor attempt at artwork. "Any sailor worth their salt knows basic stitchin'," you point out gruffly, trying to hide your schadenfreude under a stoic exterior. The mighty Governor, brought low by some black cloth and a needle. It's amusing as fuck.
You shrug at the question on steering the ship. "You pick fights with ghost whales often?" you counter very unhelpfully indeed, rummaging in your tool bag for a more delicate chisel. The tool in hand, you now lean over to peer more closely at Sunjata's mess. "What's, uh, what's the plan there, Sparky?" you ask him curiously, poking unapologetically at the cloth in the tall man's hands.
You shrug at the question on steering the ship. "You pick fights with ghost whales often?" you counter very unhelpfully indeed, rummaging in your tool bag for a more delicate chisel. The tool in hand, you now lean over to peer more closely at Sunjata's mess. "What's, uh, what's the plan there, Sparky?" you ask him curiously, poking unapologetically at the cloth in the tall man's hands.
give your heart to a wanderer
who found your soul and called it home
who found your soul and called it home
