Lancyn wriggled a bit, and resettled the folds of his cloak between his backside and the stone wall. The view was worth a little discomfort. Before him, the sea, dancing with the sparkles of the low early evening sunlight, stretched into a hazy horizon and a fading sky. He could watch the sea for hours, he thought. There was something compelling about the steady motion of waves.
"Ooh, chestnuts!" exclaimed Chrisfer, beside him, and jumped down from the wall. It was useless to expect Chris to sit still and admire the landscape. Particularly when there was a vendor with a hot brazier, offering little woven straw baskets filled with roast chestnuts.
Content to wait for his treat, Lancyn gazed at the sea.
Something caught the corner of his eye, and he turned to see that a large striped cat, pale orange and soft fawn and so well-groomed it must be a pet, not a stray, had landed on the wall beside him. It surveyed him with lamplike green eyes, then turned away indifferently. Lancyn eyed it suspiciously, but it stared out at the ocean, ignoring him, and after a few moments he did the same.
The scent of chestnuts, and Chrisfer's laughter, jolted him out of his daydreams.
"A perfect match!" Chris was grinning at him. The cat, affronted by the comparison, jumped lightly down and stalked away. Chris offered the basket, helped himself to a hot chestnut as he sat down in the space vacated by the cat, and blew on his fingers as he peeled away the skin. He tossed the nut into his mouth and huffed with the heat of it.
"These are good," Chrisfer said, sounding a little breathless.
Lancyn peeled one for himself, and agreed, though the hot nut singed his tongue. They sat peacefully, sharing the roasted chestnuts, and staring at the ocean, though Lancyn was doing perhaps more than his fair share of the staring, and Chrisfer more of the peeling, eating and puffing.
One day, Lancyn knew, he'd find out what was beyond that horizon. For now, though, hot chestnuts and Chris to share them with. It was good.
On to the next story: Food