Millard Fillmore campfire, Thursday lunchtime

[future_sandworm]

The fire was lit, and Leto was heating water for spice coffee while chewing on some bread and dried fruit. It wasn't much of a meal, really, and he did consider finding something more filling in a while. Still, sitting here and watching the flames was comfortable enough, and soon the cinnamon scent of spice mingled with that of coffee, which always reminded him of home.

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[bitten_notshy]

Jack smiled thinly. "So how do you like to spend time, Triela?"

[sorella-vecchia.livejournal.com]

"Training. Going to class." She shrugged. "The occasional visit home to take care of something."

[bitten_notshy]

"Where's home for you?" Jack wondered. "My guardian's in Baltimore now, but I was raised in Europe."

[sorella-vecchia.livejournal.com]

"Rome. Though I've traveled quite a bit around Europe."

[bitten_notshy]

"I've been in Rome," Jack nodded. "E una bella città. But we were mostly in Spain, the last few years."

[sorella-vecchia.livejournal.com]

"I've only been to Spain twice. It seemed interesting."

[bitten_notshy]

"My guardian's Spanish," Jack offered. "It's his home base, really."

[sorella-vecchia.livejournal.com]

"So you speak the language?" Triela asked. "In addition to English and Italian?"

[bitten_notshy]

"I speak," Jack said, trying not to sound terribly self-important and somewhat failing, "a lot of languages. My guardian thought they were important."

[sorella-vecchia.livejournal.com]

"They are often useful." She spoke four and a half herself.