He'd lived in Recollé for over five years now, so he'd been to the food truck rally before, but it had usually been a passing fancy—an opportunity to sample some of the more interesting and unique food that the city had to offer before drifting off to do whatever fell into the next time-slot. Micah regarded this day as something different. He wasn't exactly the type to count down the days on a calendar for something, but with as much as he'd been off-handedly mentioning it lately, he might as well have been—that was about as focused and excited on any event he'd seen to date.
Having witnessed Micah eat before (and the eighth wonder of the world, which was the miniature black hole that was the pit of his stomach), the event was almost daunting, in a way, but he couldn't even get marginally close to denying his enthusiasm—it was nice to see him so interested in something (and more than a little cute). So the plans were loosely structured and agreed-upon, leading to this morning, when Micah had (with Hush rustling around excitedly in the back of the car) picked him up in front of the dorm and driven them down towards the boardwalk (Hush climbing into Morgan's lap before they had even left the parking lot, of course).
Once there, he felt like a rudderless ship being hauled about by a particularly tenacious tugboat, making right on his promise to sample literally one of everything. Scanning around to see how many trucks and vendors had showed up today, well, he's happy that Micah was the way he was, because that might've killed a different person. Though perhaps him avoiding the trucks that didn't really swing for vegetarian options might've helped...
Speaking of. Morgan catches an earful of that promise as he's standing in front of a truck, buying a drink and a plate of barbecue that he'd beelined for as soon as he'd smelled it.] Oh? [He turns to peer at Micah, feigning hurt.] I thought that was my job.
[To be honest, he's concerned Hush doesn't have the stomach strength of his owner and didn't really want him getting sick. The rest of him is just trying to get even for all the (dozens of) times Micah has sniped food from his plate in the last few months.]
i-b
He'd lived in Recollé for over five years now, so he'd been to the food truck rally before, but it had usually been a passing fancy—an opportunity to sample some of the more interesting and unique food that the city had to offer before drifting off to do whatever fell into the next time-slot. Micah regarded this day as something different. He wasn't exactly the type to count down the days on a calendar for something, but with as much as he'd been off-handedly mentioning it lately, he might as well have been—that was about as focused and excited on any event he'd seen to date.
Having witnessed Micah eat before (and the eighth wonder of the world, which was the miniature black hole that was the pit of his stomach), the event was almost daunting, in a way, but he couldn't even get marginally close to denying his enthusiasm—it was nice to see him so interested in something (and more than a little cute). So the plans were loosely structured and agreed-upon, leading to this morning, when Micah had (with Hush rustling around excitedly in the back of the car) picked him up in front of the dorm and driven them down towards the boardwalk (Hush climbing into Morgan's lap before they had even left the parking lot, of course).
Once there, he felt like a rudderless ship being hauled about by a particularly tenacious tugboat, making right on his promise to sample literally one of everything. Scanning around to see how many trucks and vendors had showed up today, well, he's happy that Micah was the way he was, because that might've killed a different person. Though perhaps him avoiding the trucks that didn't really swing for vegetarian options might've helped...
Speaking of. Morgan catches an earful of that promise as he's standing in front of a truck, buying a drink and a plate of barbecue that he'd beelined for as soon as he'd smelled it.] Oh? [He turns to peer at Micah, feigning hurt.] I thought that was my job.
[To be honest, he's concerned Hush doesn't have the stomach strength of his owner and didn't really want him getting sick. The rest of him is just trying to get even for all the (dozens of) times Micah has sniped food from his plate in the last few months.]