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Who is this sassy lost child
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Natali broke into a light jog as she approached Adam and Maynard. She stumbled once, when her flip flops slipped on the sand, and she reminded herself that she should probably change into her tennis shoes. Wandering around the island would be easier if she wasn't tripping all over the place.

"Hey Adam, Maynard. It's good to see you guys." Natali greeted them and managed a wobbly smile at Adam's question. "Yeah, I guess I'm holding up."

And for the moment, she was. Seeing people she knew and the sound and smell of the ocean did a good job of soothing her, and her smile got a little more genuine as Maynard promised her that she'd be safe with them.

"Thank you. This is the first time I've run into someone since I woke up, and I'm glad it was you guys." Natali paused for a moment to roll her shoulders; the crowbar didn't weigh that much, but carrying it around was starting to tire her arm out, and she never was one to do a lot of lifting.

As she did so, she looked over the two boys. Adam wasn't looking too worse for wear, but then again he usually didn't. Maynard looked more like she felt: scared and just trying to hold himself together. She wondered how much of a mess she was, after stumbling around in a daze trying to find her way to the beach. Probably more than a little bit of a mess.

"Maynard... you look like you could use a hug." Natali hoped he wouldn't be embarrassed by that comment. She could use a hug too.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."

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Thread Titles Have Never Been My Forte · Shelson's Beach