Desmond finally had a few sketches that he was pleased with (after months of redrawing and restarting and such), so he decided to take advantage of the situation and paint. He lugged all his shit down to the beach in a huge bag, eventually setting his easel up halfway between the jungle and the water. Far enough away to keep from getting wet, but
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She knew how Jude had been about being interrupted while he was painting or drawing, so for a few moments, she just watched, keeping a slight distance so as not to be disrupting. Finally, when it seemed like an alright time to speak, she offered a weary smile; even with as long ago as everything had happened now, she still wasn't sleeping well enough. "Hey," she said quietly, rocking slightly forward, arms folded low over her chest. "That's - that's really good."
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"I've managed to stay relatively safe lately, though." And as soon as he said it, he was almost positive that he'd jinxed himself.
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"I don't believe that," he laughed, despite the feeling of jinxing himself. There was no way an island could be sentient.
"Total bullshit."
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