Thirteen

Upon her return, Sebastian was sitting on the sand next to his messenger bag, just before the water. He had been washing a mug that looked to have seen better days, and poured water out of it just as he turned to look. He nodded and gave a halfway smile. "Hey." Then, rubbing his shaved chin with the back of his hand (narrowly missing a tiny stubborn speck of lather), he glanced toward a pot of water set down on a rock. "The pot's almost full. I've got tea leaves if you'd like," Sebastian continued and rinsed the mug again.

"Tea's always worth a try," she answered smiling. "I've got fruit, if you'd like."

A look around did not show her Ayu-Asra; for a change he had flown off on his own to look for something edible.

"I would, thank you," he said and turned the mug upsidedown, tapping against its bottom with an index finger. Then he stretched and got up, satchel in one hand.

Sebastian kept his tea in a small pouch - of which he seemed to have an abudance of - and was careful to tighten the pouch afterward. His attention was, at first, fixed solely on the tea. The signs of not having slept were a little more apparent now, chiefly through his actions. He was very careful when he did something: especially once he poured the water.

Then: "I think I'll have to visit the area more often if I can. If the summers are like this every year, I've found dreamland."

Sylvie left the pears with Sebastian and went through her gear to find her tin mug. Then she took out a rectangular package wrapped in cloth, the outermost layer oiled, and turned it over, checkign if the cloth edges were tucked under tightly.

At Sebastian's declaration she raised her eyebrows in surprise. "And that's a good thing?"

He smiled a little. "It depends on how you see dreams, I guess. I mean it in the good sense. But for all I know, there's a nightmare lurking behind autumn..."

"In places with plants like this, there usually is," she answered, half joking. "I haven't been here that long, though, so I can't tell for certain."

Sebastian grinned and poured the tea. "Oh, you're probably right even so. It's just a dream, one of them anyway... and a dream's a dream."

"Right until your boots are full of slush and your fingers refuse to work and your face feels like it's burning." During this chipper enumeration she got hold of her mug and wrapped her fingers around it, as if they'd need warming, and at the end she made a show of shivering and pulling up her shoulders.

Since the tea was a bit too warm for this kind of show she shifted her grip and raised the mug towards Sebastian, grinning. "Thank you."

Her little act was rewarded with a guffaw. "Yes, yes, and until you can't feel your ears or your nose, that's quite true," he chuckled, grinning widely and raising a pear. "And thank you."

Sylvie bowed her head to the applause, before likewise helping herself to something to eat.


Not long later, the fire extinguished and buried, Sylvie finished packing.
"All dressed up and ready to go?"

The dragon was still nowhere to be seen or (recognisably) heard.

Sebastian, all done packing and pacing in circles around the camp, gave her a look and the ghost-twitch of a smile. "I forgot my scarf," he said in a mock-complaining tone, "but I think I'll be fine." Just to accentuate, he tugged his hat off and wiped some sweat off his forehead.

As an afterthought he stopped and paused to listen to the wind, to watch the clouds move toward their destination. Rather than look worried, he cracked a smile.

Sylvie set off downriver. After the warm and dry weather the water level was low, and the dry bank made for a decent path.

"Sorry I'm holding you back. You seem in a mood to chase horizon." She sounded not very apologetic at all, mostly amused.

When she followed Sebastian's gaze, her smile diminished a little, but weather was just something you had to deal with.

"You do no such thing," he replied in a similar tone, then continued with a faintly apologizing smile. "But yes, in a manner of speaking I suppose I always do chase the horizon. It can always wait, anyway." Upon noticing her look his smile widened a little and attempted to become reassuring.

"And there's always another." She apparently considered that a good thing, or at least not bad.

He stepped over some driftwood. "Yes. And I can't imagine what it would be without another one."

Sylvie considered that for a while, watching her step. At legth she said, more talking to herself than addressing Sebastian, "Small".

"Small," he agreed. "Narrow, short."

"Cramped."

"A cage."

That gave Sylvie a stop.

"But a cage usually has a door out. It may be locked, but it's obvious."