THIS IS JUST A PSL NOW I GUESS;

[fossick]

(( used the wrong method with the wrong technique ))

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[luciole]

[It's not cowardice, he just doesn't understand!!!]

Mn.

[The small noise is the only reply. Maybe she should sleep it off. She did tell him at one point that she wasn't really a drinker.]

Not sleepy.

[She's sober enough to know she isn't going to follow along to be a bother even if she wanted to. What she says next is a little odd and a little unexpected.]

Instant noodles.

[She inexplicably had a packet sitting in the inner pocket of her jacket and it remained there throughout her time in the Vale. She never showed it to him.]

I'm going to make some.

[fossick]

[Instant noodles may be beyond his ye olde purview, but the concept of noodles itself isn’t, of course. He doesn’t turn to look back at her when she says it, though, as it isn’t baffling enough to override his desire—and need—to have water readily available in the lodge.]

And you need water for that, unless these “instant” noodles of yours are some form of culinary monstrosity.

[Though it wouldn’t surprise him. So much of what he’s been told of her world is alien to him.]

So pull your weight.

[Which is the only hint of an offer for her to come and help. But he won’t repeat himself — nor will he halt, either way. Up to her. He continues down the path.]

[luciole]

[So much for not being a bother. After a moment when he's a few yards away, Lucinda clicks her tongue and stands up and saunters after him. She really doesn't need to do this, but the frustrating thing about Weir is that she could never be as indifferent as she plays herself off as around him. It wasn't like this at first, she thinks, at least until their ventures into the forest.

At the heart of it all, she thinks to herself, is that now we know too much about each other.]

𝓓𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓰𝓻𝓸𝔀 𝓯𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻?

𝓣𝓻𝓾𝓵𝔂, 𝓕𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻? 𝓓𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓫𝓮 𝓼𝓸 𝓽𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭.

𝓕𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷! 𝓘'𝓶 𝓽𝓻𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓸 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝓻𝓮𝓭𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓗𝓾𝔂𝓮𝓷!

𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓷𝓸 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓼𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓭𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼

[Great. Now she wants her own friends to shut up. As if sensing her alcohol-tinged irritation, Flora and Feather's fade almost immediately. It's just Lucinda and Weir trudging down the path to retrieve some water and it's laughably mundane given everything that has happened.

She almost wants to speak up and ask why? Why couldn't he just... Shrug his shoulders back there when she questioned the actor? If he hated having her around that much, he should have been relieved at the possible solution they had in front of them. Unless maybe, he...? And as such it meant...?

God. Weir, for all his need to not be bothered, brings it upon himself like an idiot. She needs to calm down and temper the silence between them with something else and focus on not fumbling her footwork.]

If you brood any more, you'll become a hen.

[thanks alcohol]