distraction, stopped lazily, then drifted easterly as the ocean scent carried with it the aroma of salt and stone. That same old Accord, rumbling distantly, ground to a halt as the rubber crackled against gravel. The car door opened, then closed. Yann smiled simply.
It's not a long walk; a well-kept road and the cool Atlantic breeze made it feel even shorter. The view was staggering and magnificent. Ancient rock formations dotting the sea, raw and uneven, scattered with a low brush that clinged obsessively to the land. The wind moved without
[ he thinks again briefly about not going. about how funny it would be to just not show up at all. but the promise of lunch spurs him on … a fatal flaw.
he hikes up to the park at a leisurely pace , picking out routes with the most shade. ]
“Sounds good. Meet you there.”
His used Honda Accord drums to life with the rumbling of a snoring giant. He makes his way down the road, and off he goes.
"Yeah, just head down the Cabot Trail and take a left in the fork in the road. It's a national park, lots of tourists this time of year. Can't miss it."
[ he squints , suspicious again. but … salmon. salmon is a tasty fucking fish. looking around … glancing at the license plate. just gotta memorize that real quick. ]
… fine. how far is it? can i walk there?
"Atlantic salmon," he replied. "Fresh-caught this morning by yours truly." He points to himself with a slight prideful grin, drumming his other hand on the steering wheel. "There's a park not far with a grill. We can cook 'er up there, what do you say?"
[ he considers the possibility of poison , which is always on his mind when it comes to accepting food from strangers. but ultimately , he decides that a free meal is worth any risk in the world. ]
i like what you’re selling me now. what kinda fish is it?
"When you put it that way..." He sank down into the driver seat a little bit. Suddenly, he perked up. "You hungry? I've got a fish on ice in the back from today's haul. I was gonna grill it for myself, but lunch is better in company."
"No problem, stranger."
He squints a little. "Should I--?" No, that's not it.
"So much for this. One second..."
He grabs the fork by the shaft and with a hesitant pull, yanks it out of Pointdexter's shoulder. The sight makes him slightly queasy, but he offers a thumbs-up.