There's a shake of Esteban's head as his companion mentions sleeping in public. It's not that-- it's just.
"Hate the cabins. Too small, too many people." He takes whatever wide space he can get, even if that ends up with him falling asleep in the rain. He's found there aren't many that linger in the weather carriage when there's even just a drizzle. Rain's an inconvenience for most, but it's a comfort for the half-elf.
He does get confused at the mention of preferring blankets over grass though. To Esteban, the saltgrass plains are as good as any bed, and probably twice as familiar. Falling asleep to the sway and rustle of wind through the stalks, the ethereal mirror moon overhead, full and bright, and the call of night creatures shuffling in the prairie-- the beds are too small in comparison. Static and cold and alien.
"I c'ld send the suggestion to the voting pools. Communal blankets. Or maybe get them knitted?" He knows some people on the train knit; maybe they could make a large fluffy blanket out of them? Esteban would offer to help, but he's bad at anything requiring fine dexterity.
Oof, his mind is jumping places. He really should lie down, even if the idea is distasteful.
"Where d'you go in your spare time?" It's a bit of a jump, but the half-elf does want to find his new friend again, once he's more coherent and put together. He'll thank him properly when he can, and get to know what Wash likes at the same time. Win-win.
no subject
"Hate the cabins. Too small, too many people." He takes whatever wide space he can get, even if that ends up with him falling asleep in the rain. He's found there aren't many that linger in the weather carriage when there's even just a drizzle. Rain's an inconvenience for most, but it's a comfort for the half-elf.
He does get confused at the mention of preferring blankets over grass though. To Esteban, the saltgrass plains are as good as any bed, and probably twice as familiar. Falling asleep to the sway and rustle of wind through the stalks, the ethereal mirror moon overhead, full and bright, and the call of night creatures shuffling in the prairie-- the beds are too small in comparison. Static and cold and alien.
"I c'ld send the suggestion to the voting pools. Communal blankets. Or maybe get them knitted?" He knows some people on the train knit; maybe they could make a large fluffy blanket out of them? Esteban would offer to help, but he's bad at anything requiring fine dexterity.
Oof, his mind is jumping places. He really should lie down, even if the idea is distasteful.
"Where d'you go in your spare time?" It's a bit of a jump, but the half-elf does want to find his new friend again, once he's more coherent and put together. He'll thank him properly when he can, and get to know what Wash likes at the same time. Win-win.