(no subject)

[river_meimei]

River's wearing her brown coat, as she does most days.

In one pocket: a wooden ring. An iron ankh. A black handkerchief.

She slips them between her fingers inside her pocket as she paces through the ship, watching her other hand slide along the bulkhead below a clustered length of wiring.

Comments

[river_meimei]

That makes her smile grow a little. Firm a little more.

To her hands, "With seeds."

[gonna_live]

"Always a pain tryin' to get 'em out." Kaylee shakes her head a little. "Tell you what -- folk who say spittin' is unladylike never had anything orange-shaped."

[river_meimei]

"It's a sphere. Approximated in the broader sense.

[gonna_live]

"Well, so're the seeds if you want to get technical," Kaylee points out reasonably.

[river_meimei]

River disagrees.

[gonna_live]

Kaylee will survive somehow.