So, how practical is this thing? Israel signed in amusement, gently lifting the end of the bell sleeve. It’s practically see through. What is this, lace? He added, looking over the intricate fabric before looking back to her with a smirk. In contrast to her light, hippie-esque dress he wore a heavy wool kilt, leather boots, and a wrapped bandana around his arm. The left side of his face was smeared in black war paint to match the symbols painted on his arms. Gently letting go of her sleeve as they walked past the beach bonfire, dark eyes sliding to look at the bruised and bloodied faces of his fellow prisoners. Meeting their envious gazes, he quickly looked away and looked to the waves. For once he was thankful he wasn’t amongst them this time. Trying to push their marred faces from his thoughts he looked back to Effy curiously. Do you have anywhere specific you want to go first? I’m game for anything. With that he looked to the moon hanging in the sky. ‘As long as it’s not the fights...’ He thought privately. The last thing he wanted was for one of the guards to throw him in there.