(Untitled)

[simon_doctor]

They've been here before, but then it was early spring; it's late summer now, edging into fall, and the water's warm enough to wade in.

Simon and Kaylee are walking along the edge of the shoreline, their shoes in their hands, letting the tide rush and recede over their feet.

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[gonna_live]

And it's been pretty quiet, at least on Kaylee's end; she's content to let the water and the wind do the talking.

A small flock of birds ahead of them scatters, and lifts into the air. Kaylee lifts her head to follow their progress.

[simon_doctor]

The birds' footprints, tiny forked runes, mark the sand for a few seconds before the next wave washes over them.

It's a comfortable quiet at the moment, and Simon doesn't feel any particular need to disturb it.

In a bag slung over his shoulder there is extra sunblock (they've both got some on already), and a thermos bottle of cold water, and a picnic lunch.

[gonna_live]

"Wish they'd stayed," she murmurs a little wistfully, watching the flock arc around in angles, finally settling some distance ahead of them.

(Today Kaylee isn't wearing a scarf around her neck; her upper back is bared to the sun.)

[simon_doctor]

(The bruising is long gone, and the scars on her neck have almost faded to four white flecks against the skin; the scars lower down her back are fully healed but still far more visible, random traceries of pale red over her shoulderblades, across her spine.)

"We can throw crusts to them later," he suggests, "if you really want them to stay."