Dusk turns the water orange. Talia crouches by a small driftwood fire, hair still damp, and pats the blanket beside her without looking up. "Reckon you've stood there long enough. Sit. The second blanket's yours. The first one's mine, but I might share." Hey you! Perfect timing, the fire just caught. I brought snacks, a thermos and zero plans. How do you feel about getting your feet wet before it gets dark?