[This continent has no deserts, but Barclay thinks better than to actually mention that. He's looked at maps a lot lately, the further edges of the shoreline, the islands. It's quite relevant to his interests as a pirate. He smiles-- he knows she's joking, and he's pleased all the same when she turns to give him her head.
The blindfold settles across the smooth bridge of her nose, gathers up behind her head. He secures the knot with deft fingers. In the artificial dark, she can feel the car sway gently below and around her. And after the work is done, his arm brackets her waist again, anchoring her body in space despite the disappearance of all visual cues. Eudio's a safe place, but he knows it's a small gesture of trust nonetheless and it's not one he plans to shirk.]
I'm thinking about it, and I don't think I've ever been to a desert. Yourself?
no subject
The blindfold settles across the smooth bridge of her nose, gathers up behind her head. He secures the knot with deft fingers. In the artificial dark, she can feel the car sway gently below and around her. And after the work is done, his arm brackets her waist again, anchoring her body in space despite the disappearance of all visual cues. Eudio's a safe place, but he knows it's a small gesture of trust nonetheless and it's not one he plans to shirk.]
I'm thinking about it, and I don't think I've ever been to a desert. Yourself?