inside mongolia yurt; monday afternoon

[flickofawrist]

Flick had a pounding headache. He hadn't really moved from his futon (seriously, a futon) since he'd woken up save to get some water and strip out of his shirt because this place had no air conditioning and it was stupid hot outside already

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[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle had been off in New York all weekend long. And sure, she'd been vaguely aware that this camping thing was coming, but coming back today to find the dorms deserted had still been a surprise.

Peering into the yurt was much the same.

"What the hell is this?"

[flickofawrist]

"Welcome to your new home, baby," Flick said once he recognized her voice. "It's called a yurt. Say goodbye to your bid bed and hello to your new futon."

[seveninchmotto]

"I'm going back to New York," Isabelle declared, although she probably wasn't serious. Maybe. Look, she was coming in, at least. "This is ridiculous."

[flickofawrist]

Flick snickered briefly before he pulled his arm away and peered at her. "If I have to stay here, you have to stay here. We're in this together."