[Perched on a rock on the beach, it's probably not a surprise to anyone that Nate is drawing. His left hand's doing double duty, holding his page down in case of wind and also holding another sketch clearly ripped out of his journal, an unfinished one of the aliens' main building with a jagged line across it. Some of the line is erased, a sign he tried to salvage it, but from his redrawing it now, he's given up on the original. On the opposite page are a few doodles of crewmates in their party clothes.
[He looks up at his older self as he approaches from the Moira, and pats the sand next to him by way of invitation to join him.]
Hey. You think Sam would like this one?
[One day Sam will appreciate one of his drawings. Plus, they're cheaper than it is to print a photo. (Ah, the nineties.)]
for big Nate
[He looks up at his older self as he approaches from the Moira, and pats the sand next to him by way of invitation to join him.]
Hey. You think Sam would like this one?
[One day Sam will appreciate one of his drawings. Plus, they're cheaper than it is to print a photo. (Ah, the nineties.)]