Array 067 [Voice/Video]
[Al is curled up in a window nook, and by the look of it, it's the same old house from his last post. The window looks clean and by the lighting there is a fire offscreen. Water droplets hit the windows as he stares at the rain outside.
For a time he stays there, a journal open and a pen in his hand. It isn't his usual neat notes -- the lines have an odd scheme to them, some with only one word, but it's too far away to make them out.
A ladybug crawls across the page. In wonder, Al slips a finger next to it, and lifts it up to his face. The insect flicks its wings and seems to watch him.]
... a little bit of spring. I hope the cold doesn't kill them.
[Al reaches out and sets the ladybug on the windowsill, and smiles thoughtfully, tapping his pen against his bottom lip.]
Maybe it means good luck is coming.
For a time he stays there, a journal open and a pen in his hand. It isn't his usual neat notes -- the lines have an odd scheme to them, some with only one word, but it's too far away to make them out.
A ladybug crawls across the page. In wonder, Al slips a finger next to it, and lifts it up to his face. The insect flicks its wings and seems to watch him.]
... a little bit of spring. I hope the cold doesn't kill them.
[Al reaches out and sets the ladybug on the windowsill, and smiles thoughtfully, tapping his pen against his bottom lip.]
Maybe it means good luck is coming.