Don't you draw the queen of diamonds, boy
Convinced there's more to be had, Isla will find any semblance of personal space she thought she had woefully and completely violated by insistent noses and bright eyes. She'll have to watch herself that she isn't inadvertently stabbed by flailing horns.
Reaching for a bowl as he waits for her answer, Morgen shrugs and nods, leaving the only other bowl where it is. Clearly, he isn't one who entertains often. "Thought we were just alone, not lonely." He counters with a wry smile, before letting it fade away gradually. Chewing something over in his mind as he ladles himself out a portion of stew, Morgen sets his bowl down on the bench (it's large enough for two, but hell, they just met), and instead disappears into his 'cabin' for a moment. Returning with a blanket that he shakes out before depositing it carelessly on the ground, Morgen grabs his bowl and nods toward the empty bench.
"Just over a year, huh." He repeats thoughtfully, sinking down onto the blanket. The ground is hard, but so was just about everything else in his life. "So, right about after the war?" The inflection at the end of his voice invites Isla to elaborate, though the casual way he begins to slurp at his dinner suggests he won't fight her on it if she chooses not to.
Reaching for a bowl as he waits for her answer, Morgen shrugs and nods, leaving the only other bowl where it is. Clearly, he isn't one who entertains often. "Thought we were just alone, not lonely." He counters with a wry smile, before letting it fade away gradually. Chewing something over in his mind as he ladles himself out a portion of stew, Morgen sets his bowl down on the bench (it's large enough for two, but hell, they just met), and instead disappears into his 'cabin' for a moment. Returning with a blanket that he shakes out before depositing it carelessly on the ground, Morgen grabs his bowl and nods toward the empty bench.
"Just over a year, huh." He repeats thoughtfully, sinking down onto the blanket. The ground is hard, but so was just about everything else in his life. "So, right about after the war?" The inflection at the end of his voice invites Isla to elaborate, though the casual way he begins to slurp at his dinner suggests he won't fight her on it if she chooses not to.
