[ His thoughts scatter in a few directions: the mundanity of it all, as though they weren't in a magical prison weathering the aftershocks of the walking dead; his unwillingness to take instruction from anyone but her; how long it's been since he's really worked with his hands; the pirates, all of them young, all of them eager and grasping; lovely, a joke, but still not a word no one's ever applied to him in seriousness or in jest.
None of it's important.
A minute of searching his phone keyboard, and then: ]
no subject
None of it's important.
A minute of searching his phone keyboard, and then: ]
🆗