Deg, you and Vet are sitting on the bridge over the river.
He's got a glass jar with mead and a loaf of good brown bread, hardly any chunks, pretty damn fine chunk of jingle he shelled out if you ask me.
There's huge fucken crate of shiny metal discs here with pictures and letters. You two are taking turns throwing them and trying to hit them with rocks. Do you know many people who can read? Who's winning your little game?
One of the waterwheels is close, you passed it and the sound of the water and the work gang is loud and relaxing and strange all at the same time. Do you prefer noise, or silence? Louise got an opinion?
After a little comforting while, you two are sitting close. He lean-bumps you with his shoulder, smiling a happy smile and oh my god do you know how far he'd follow you? Look in his eyes and tell me you don't see it. "Can I still call you Green when we're alone?"
Some of the bread is still left, it's nice to tear off a piece and dip it into the mead, but you've gotta keep the lid screwed on otherwise bugs will get in, smelling the sweetness.