starter for: @wordwove
With Vash snoozing quietly, Roberto less quietly, and the radio droning in the late-morning heat, Meryl was strapped for options - if she didn’t want her brain to melt from boredom, Wolfwood would have to do.
As usual, it’s hard to pin-point where their argument started. A passing comment she’d taken the bait on, turned bickering, turned argument in earnest with a threat to kick him out on a sand dune- whatever. Standard fair. But it was definitely ended with Roberto grumbling at them to quiet down, and to pull over somewhere soon. “For a leak.” Lovely.
Since she’s not an animal (or a man - what’s the difference), Meryl finds a rest stop with an outhouse for them to stop at - the shack is a desiccated, crunchy looking thing and there’s no way there’s a Plant to recharge at, but its sheltered from the sun and wind by towering rock, and that’s better than nothing. It’s never a good time for a sunburn.
She leaves Vash snoring and Roberto to his business and hops out to stretch her legs and walk off her lingering irritation. It’s not all that successful. It’s hard to be the bigger person when you’re five-foot-nothing and everyone you care to impress is occupied.
She puts her hand on one of the rocks - worn into smooth, undulating shapes that her gloves run over with a hiss, and calls back to Wolfwood with faux sympathy in her voice.
“Wolfwood! I’ve figured it out.”
“See the way the sand has eroded this rock?” To illustrate, she sticks her hand through a gap, wiggling her fingers in the open air. “I think that’s what happened to your brain.”