She grinned, raising an eyebrow. "I'm quixotic for thinking that that view seems otherworldly?" she asked, amused.
He lifted a finger, a knowing look on his face. "Not just that. Your personality in general. I can just tell already." (I want to draw this scene.)
(DO ITTTT) "Oh dear," she said, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "It is very strange that they partnered us up. You're the pessimist, and I'm callow. What a team we make."
"Right," she called down after him, turning to gaze back at the sky for a few minutes more. "Go... burn some sticks." She stared for a moment, enchanted by the sight that lay out in front of her. It took her a few seconds to rethink about that conversation. "That was weird," she thought. "He left fairly abruptly."
He followed the the footsteps back to the fire, which was growing a bit dim. He added a branch and sat back down on the log.
After about five minutes, Poppy returned. Her hair was pulled back in her standard style, and she shook the snow that had stuck to her body as she climbed. "Hey, you alright?" she asked, shaking out her hands in an attempt to warm them up.
"Nothing, you just left suddenly, that's all," she said, stretching. She yawned slightly, and then sighed. "I think I'm going to turn in if that's okay with you..?"
She paused for a moment, trying to decipher his change in mood. Finally, she shrugged, and unzipped the tent. She took off her shoes and lay them neatly by the door. "Night Francis," she said, zipping up the door behind her.
He was silent, poking at the fire with a stick. It didn't take long for him to retire to the tent as well. (Time skip?)
(Sure! Do you want Francis to wake up first or should Poppy?) (Also, side note, I've almost accidentally typed 'poopy' instead of 'poppy' so many times during this. just thought you needed to know)
(Poppy should. Francis isn't an early riser.) (Also, that is very helpful information, considering I did it just now, too.)
(Alrighty.) Poppy woke up suddenly. Her hand had curled against her forehead while she slept, and she watched lazily through her eyelashes as her brain tried to figure out where she was. Finally, it all caught up to her and she sat up, her sheet falling from her shoulder. Yes, there was Francis, sleeping on the opposite side of the tent. Sunlight streamed through the tent, and Poppy considered the situation. Weren't they supposed to get moving early? She thought about it for a moment, and then shrugged and slipped out of her sleeping bag. She might as well get ready to go while he slept. Working as quietly as she could, she rolled up her sleeping mat and placed it back in her pack. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she stepped outside, squinting in the morning light, and zipped up the door behind her. Icicles glinted in the morning dew, and the world seemed clean and new. Poppy took a deep breath and walked into the woods to find a good spot. She needed to change out of her clothes from yesterday, and it was not lost on her that the wind was bitterly cold this morning. She was not looking forward to it. "I'll be back before he wakes up," she figured, stepping over a couple branches.
Francis woke up soon after she left, going from a deep sleep to eyes flying open. He looked around a moment, then shuddered. Sitting up, he looked around. She was gone. He assumed she had gone to change, and so he decided to the same. Quickly, he got up to change as fast as possible while she was gone. He thought to himself. "Blasted cold weather. Getting caught in the middle of icy hell." (Also, Spoiler It was totally going to be the scene but my mild slipped away (I erased it). This always happens. Sorry if it's all wrong. )
(Oh my god, Stuffy. That is so perfect. I know this may sound a little weird, but I seriously have no words. That looks exactly like how I envisioned the two of them. That's crazy. You paid such attention to the little details. Their expressions are perfect, and you even got the clothing right. Wow. I really can't get over that. I'll stop fangirling over it, but that's really remarkable.) Poppy quickly changed into an orange and white striped shirt and a new pair of jeans. She slipped on her trenchcoat, a birthday gift from her father when she was 23. It was waterproof, grey and warm, and Poppy loved it. It reminded her of home. She put her old clothes into her pack and began to return to the camp, her boots crunching on the freshly fallen snow.
(You make me feel so good about tiny doodles haha) Frances managed to get ready without actually standing up. He just put on his clothes while laying on the floor. He was just buttoning up a white undershirt, and his hair was wild and bit unruly.
(I seriously cannot get over that. I really love it.) Poppy approached the tent, and unzipped the door, thinking that Francis was still asleep. She entered while looking down at her watch, and tightening it around her wrist, and when she looked up at him, she realized that he had been putting his clothes on while laying down. "Were you... really too lazy to stand up and put your clothing on?" she asked softly, fearing that if she spoke too loudly she wouldn't be able to keep the laughter that was building up in the back of her throat down.
"Don't judge me. It's warmer doing it this way," he said, not bothering to wear the outer coat at the time.
