[ he'll find her where the trees break into a small clearing, just a little north of the pond that has since the snow frosted over. unlike kovacs she is bundled appropriately for the cold — wool coat over a thick sweater over a plaid flannel over loose corduroys that bottom out into garish woolen socks. maybe regular humans are more susceptible to the whims of the sunlight room. maybe she just likes dressing like she would have were she still back in massachussetts.
she's perched on a rock she had dusted some snow off of, idly sniffing a cigar she'd just finished clipping. at her feet lay a small tin of five more and... a pack of wooden skewers?
she sits up a little straighter when she sees his approach, holding out the cigar for him once he's near enough. ]
Coat, too, [ she notes on a hum, brows raised. ] You got real fancy.
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she's perched on a rock she had dusted some snow off of, idly sniffing a cigar she'd just finished clipping. at her feet lay a small tin of five more and... a pack of wooden skewers?
she sits up a little straighter when she sees his approach, holding out the cigar for him once he's near enough. ]
Coat, too, [ she notes on a hum, brows raised. ] You got real fancy.