He took it all in as if for the first time. Training dictated he'd looked everywhere as he approached, but he'd been in such shock, still—
—from Scarif? No, couldn't actually blame it on that. Perhaps he could be forgiven for finding the spontaneous… what… teleportation, falling through space-/time-, being snatched from death, all a bit tunnel-vision-inducing. But really, he'd been focused on her.
He had noted the distance from the city and the surrounding countryside, enough to feel about as safe as he ever had in the junkyard. (Both choosing to live in downed ships. No, stop that.) The garden just seems like a good idea.
"Good for a fire," he agreed, giving her another of his repertoire of tiny, real smiles. "Maybe after we come back and things have had a chance to dry off. Where to now?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2025-05-10 02:45 am (UTC)—from Scarif? No, couldn't actually blame it on that. Perhaps he could be forgiven for finding the spontaneous… what… teleportation, falling through space-/time-, being snatched from death, all a bit tunnel-vision-inducing. But really, he'd been focused on her.
He had noted the distance from the city and the surrounding countryside, enough to feel about as safe as he ever had in the junkyard. (Both choosing to live in downed ships. No, stop that.) The garden just seems like a good idea.
"Good for a fire," he agreed, giving her another of his repertoire of tiny, real smiles. "Maybe after we come back and things have had a chance to dry off. Where to now?"