[It's not an entirely difficult concept to grasp, but it certainly doesn't make it any less inconvenient, either: at least for this week, physical contact = warmth. Maybe it was stupid of her too, to think that being on the beach might help matters, but at this point, she has to do something. Her teeth chatter, and when she breathes, it feels like she should be seeing smoke; but when she doesn't, she just keeps walking, with the sun doing nothing to warm her.
She comes across a familiar blond figure who seems to be minding his own business -- and really, she wants to do the same. Out of some morbid curiosity, though (and perhaps against her better judgment), she also ventures out far enough to wear the water comes in to drench her feet.
And they feel like icicles not long afterwards.
Stumbling, she hurriedly scrambles backwards in the direction she came as the tide "chases" her -- and just as it goes out again, she plops into the sand.
no subject
She comes across a familiar blond figure who seems to be minding his own business -- and really, she wants to do the same. Out of some morbid curiosity, though (and perhaps against her better judgment), she also ventures out far enough to wear the water comes in to drench her feet.
And they feel like icicles not long afterwards.
Stumbling, she hurriedly scrambles backwards in the direction she came as the tide "chases" her -- and just as it goes out again, she plops into the sand.
Yeah. Ow. Real graceful.]