Wandering around in a desert meant a lot of sleepless days and nights, if no convenient cave or rocky outcropping can be found. The steamer was a lucky find, even if sooner or later people would come along and strip it to rubble for its parts. There's still a lot of stuff here.. and for now, it's all his! And Vash's, apparently, but that's fine.
He says nothing as this story of a little garden of fruit trees unfolds, digging through his memory to see if he recalled any such location before --
... No, he's not ready to dwell on July as a broad topic yet, it came with a painful snarl of negativity, emotional and physical pain on multiple levels, and terrible grief. He was going to have to sort that out eventually, but carefully sets it aside. If ever there was a useful skill to have, it was simply completely ignoring all emotions, and he could be grateful for it even if it came from a long history of terrible things.
"I think pears are supposed to be brownish on the outside," he ventures after a long moment, a bit puzzled. He didn't .. think he'd ever seen one on a tree, so maybe.. "Maybe it wasn't ready yet? I wonder how they handled pollinating, maybe by hand or did the worms get in on it? ...Uh, actually, I guess it ..doesn't matter." Fruit trees in the desert.
It must have been a sight, like the wonders of Little Arcadia. There's a part of him that wished he knew about it MUCH sooner (except.. he did), so he could have ... done. Something. About it. The thought is pushed away with a flash of bitter annoyance that is also squelched. "The ones I had, had a weird texture, kind of grainy, but it wasn't sour. Hey, why don't you get some rest. It's safe enough here, I'll keep an eye out. And speaking of July, when you wake up I'll show you something neat. But it's not going anywhere so it can wait."
no subject
He says nothing as this story of a little garden of fruit trees unfolds, digging through his memory to see if he recalled any such location before --
... No, he's not ready to dwell on July as a broad topic yet, it came with a painful snarl of negativity, emotional and physical pain on multiple levels, and terrible grief. He was going to have to sort that out eventually, but carefully sets it aside. If ever there was a useful skill to have, it was simply completely ignoring all emotions, and he could be grateful for it even if it came from a long history of terrible things.
"I think pears are supposed to be brownish on the outside," he ventures after a long moment, a bit puzzled. He didn't .. think he'd ever seen one on a tree, so maybe.. "Maybe it wasn't ready yet? I wonder how they handled pollinating, maybe by hand or did the worms get in on it? ...Uh, actually, I guess it ..doesn't matter." Fruit trees in the desert.
It must have been a sight, like the wonders of Little Arcadia. There's a part of him that wished he knew about it MUCH sooner (except.. he did), so he could have ... done. Something. About it. The thought is pushed away with a flash of bitter annoyance that is also squelched. "The ones I had, had a weird texture, kind of grainy, but it wasn't sour. Hey, why don't you get some rest. It's safe enough here, I'll keep an eye out. And speaking of July, when you wake up I'll show you something neat. But it's not going anywhere so it can wait."