Earlier that week he had told Layla about the shop closing, which mean he was busy with it and all the preparations associated with it. Jeremy had done his best to make sure that the tools that were Iona's stayed and the ones that were his weren't left behind. It was her shop to sell and at getting the news he wasn't entirely surprised. He also didn't ask about it any further than nodding and packing up what he had. He had some money saved up and a part time job as a bouncer. Things were a little tighter when it came to money but it wasn't uncomfortable.

With the last of what he had packed up, Jeremy had a sturdy wooden box of tools at home and a stack of clothes he would sometimes change into for work that were in a pile on the floor shoved up against the wall. He was eating some minestrone-style soup he'd learned to prepare when he messaged Layla, letting her know "I'm home and got everything taken care of. I have the next three days off if you want to come by."

Seeing her would be harder now, but not by much. He wasn't working at a shop which neighbored hers anymore but he still lived well within the area.

Layla was concerned for him, of course, but less so than she would have been had they not attended the grand opening of that other shop not too long ago. The owner had seemed friendly, and she was hopeful that perhaps Jeremy would be able to line up some work with them pretty quickly so he could continue to pursue his art.

And in the meantime, there was that part time job in security. It worried her a little — Rhydin could be a dangerous place full of strange people, and she hated to think of Jeremy being in harm's way —but at least it meant there was some money coming in.

She was working on her pottery wheel, some music playing softly on her phone, when the text came in. It took her some time to respond because of it - Layla had to finish what she was doing, wash and then dry her hands before she could safely reach for her phone. So it was maybe five or six minutes later that she texted him back. "Just finishing up a piece. Do you want me to come over now?"

"Yeah, I'd like to see you. Busy?" He glanced down at himself and realized he was still in some of the work clothes he had used to move his things out of Iona's shop and to help pick up here and there. Mostly, it was dust but the shirt and pants were old and had some stains and tears. He tugged off his shirt and pulled on a new black one that said "Rhy'Din Marketplace." On the back of it was a list of different shops that were on the city council registry. One hand rubbed the side of his face, checking that there wasn't too much stubble as he waited for her to write him back.

Broad shouldered with cords of muscle from working the forge, some of Jeremy's build had softened since he wasn't working as vehemently as he used to. That happened with dating, sometimes. He was spending free time with Layla instead of rock climbing or picking up additional work. There was plenty of definition to him, just the bulk he used to sport had lessened.

This time the answer came much faster. "Almost done. Let me get cleaned up and I'll be right there."

Setting the phone aside, Layla was quick about cleaning up her work space, draping the mostly finished piece in a damp cloth and then transferring it to the cooling unit to keep it from drying out. Turning off the lights, she hurried down the stairs to get the clay off her fingers and out of her hair.

Maybe forty minutes later, the girl was knocking on his door. She'd changed clothes, too, shedding clay-stained layers that smelled faintly of damp earth in favor of something cooler, given the heat. Her pants were made of a thin, breathable material and were a greyish blue in shade, her shirt a gauzy flowing white. Her jet black hair was pulled back in a loose braid, a few curling tendrils framing her face.

He had a clean shirt but the same scrubby pants on when he answered the door for her. They had gotten a bit more casual with one another. In a way that was good because it kept every meeting between them from feeling like some sort of production instead of them just seeing each other. There was a pressure that came with those orchestrated meetings. Jeremy always felt the need to impress and Layla was always sweet and patient no matter what happened. That made it all infinitely difficult to know if he was doing things 'right' or 'wrong' with her.

"Hey, come in," he shoved the mouth of his door further open so that she could step in. His hand strayed longer at the door knob, intending to shut it after she slipped in, "It's been kinda a long day so....sorry for the mess."

The whole concept of being someone's girlfriend was still novel to her, but she was adjusting to it fairly quickly. It showed in the way she smiled at him when the door opened, the way she stepped inside with no hesitation. Her light feet brought her against him, one hand curling into his waist as she lifted her chin to brush a hello kiss against the corner of his mouth.

Stepping back, Layla cleared the doorway so Jeremy could close it, standing just to one side as she stepped out of first one shoe and then the other. "You have no need to be sorry, Jeremy," said the girl with a smile, her dark eyes sincere. "There has been much going on for you this week."

His smile appeared just before the kiss and returned after the affectionate exchange. His door gave one little creak before the wood brushed against the threshold and the metal mechanism locked it in place. When she excused the mess of his place, which altogether wasn't that bad, he smiled. He didn't particularly like the idea of her coming over and him not seeming to put in an effort to make the place 'tidy' for her. Layla wasn't that particular about it, so in a way he did it more for himself than her.

"How were things at the shop today' Want something to drink?" He backpedaled a few steps and then turned into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of cold tea from the fridge as he waited to see if she wanted anything for herself.

"Oh, the shop was closed today. I have been making new things all day." There was movement in her smile, that whisper soft laugh. "I was up to my elbows in clay when you sent me that text message."

There was a quick glance around the apartment when he moved towards the kitchen, trailing him at a distance. It really wasn't a mess, just a little more cluttered than usual what with the things he'd had to bring home from the shop. Still, it was sweet that he was concerned about it, and she took a lean against the counter nearby. "Some tea would be nice, thank you. Are you..." Layla trailed off, watching him curiously. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Oh yeah?" He smiled when she said it and then turned, grabbing a glass and pouring another cup for her. He stepped over to her, the toes of his socked feet a foot away from her own. When he handed her the glass of tea he took another swallow of his drink, mirroring her lean to the counter by putting his side at its edge, "I mean....it's not the greatest thing in the world but....yeah, I'm all right. One thing I learned pretty quickly was that there's lots of folks in town looking for workers. It may not be like....a dream job or anything, but I can find work if I keep my mind on it."

Her head bobbed in a nod that brought a springing movement to those few tendrils of black that had escaped her braid. "I was a mess," the girl confessed, shoulders lifting in a shrug. "...Probably I even still have clay on me somewhere."

He set his glass down, his hand still cool and moist from the cold sweat of the glass when his hand settled on the side of her waist, "Besides, I know a beautiful ceramic worker who could be....what?s the word" My sugar mama?" Jeremy's nose wrinkled like he thought the term was a bit weird or odd, but definitely fun to say.

Layla took the glass as it was offered to her, bringing it to her lips for a couple of swallows before setting it on the counter. She listened to his explanation, just beginning to think about what other kinds of jobs he might get, when he stepped closer, his fingers curling over her side. The response was automatic, the way she took that small half step into him, closing the distance even more.

When she laughed this time, there was a voice behind it, genuine mirth bubbling up in the deep dark wells of her eyes. "...Sugar mama, you say' Mm. You must be very lucky, then."

The little blush and single trickle of her finger over his collarbone kept his smile in place, though he leaned his weight in to the counter's edge to sink himself in a bit more fully. It helped a bit to do that, to anchor himself to some point so he wouldn't just wash over her, er, overwhelm her as it were.

At first the suggestion of them camping had him smiling and nodding, though as the imagery of it settled in his expression lost some of its enthusiasm. It wasn't that it was undesirable but perhaps quite the opposite. Too desirable. A single cloth room in the middle of the woods all weekend. Jeremy wanted to believe he was a better man, but the intention or desire that came with that prolonged exposure was hard to avoid. As good as he was, he wasn't a saint, "I don't know...." His head rolled to one side, his ear almost touching his shoulder, "It's kinda far away from everything, you know?" He didn't want to admit that expectations of camping were also expectations of being laid. Knowing Layla, she had offered the idea to him sweetly, intending some kissing and fooling around.

Or maybe she'd offered it as a suggestion to him specifically because it meant uninterrupted time alone in a secluded location far away, where the real world - and perhaps her thoughts - couldn't intrude. "....Is that not the appeal?" Whispered the girl, her lips just barely brushing his as she spoke. "...I think I would like to go camping with you," she said, in a tone that suggested she wasn't actually talking about camping at all.

Her mouth near to his, her words almost being kissed into his mouth....the suggestion was undeniable. But did she mean it' Was she just being cute and sexy as opposed to inviting in the moment' His arms loosened, the fingertips of his hands rested at the shoulders of her shirt. When he spoke his eyes were downcast, partly embarrassed at the admission, "You know a weekend alone in a tiny room sort of..." how could he say this without sounding like a jackass" His head lifted and he looked at her, admitting with a blush of embarrassment, "It's sort of....difficult not to be intimate with someone and....I'm trying to respect....boundaries?" It was difficult to search out the right words for it all.

Layla was watching his face, her dark eyes intent as she studied the series of emotions that seemed to move over his face. The girl could tell there was an internal struggle there; it was only that it took her a moment to put together just what it was he was struggling with.

When she figured it out, the girl smiled, and the warmth of the expression was like a sudden gust of summer wind on a spring day— that secret warmth that spoke of coming heat in dulcet promises. "...I know," she said meaningfully, and her gaze was fixed on his even as he blushed. One hand lifted, traced the line of his cheek with delicate, supple fingers. "I am not asking you to." Not anymore.

There was an initial relief that took hold of his gaze when she understood and then said as much. A weekend camping with her and that misunderstanding of intent would have been synonymous with torture. She wouldn't have meant to be beguiling, pushing her back up against his chest at night to spoon or to curl against his side. No one around, nothing to think of but all of that.

Thinking that she would retreat from the suggestion, his smile softened in an understanding way while she blushed and stroked his jaw. She was supposed to thank him for being patient or make a promise that it wouldn't always be this way. Her words were so unexpected that when their meaning dawned on him both of his eyebrows raised upward to say 'Did I hear you right"'

The sheer shock in his eyes was endearing, made her heart flutter in her chest. Although they joked with one another along that line from time to time, it had always been light: Jeremy had never once made her feel guilty or pressured for her reserve. Layla knew the surprise was genuine, that he'd honestly only voiced his concern to give her the option of retreat.

It made sense, his disbelief. It was a big thing she was agreeing to, if not in so many words. She tried not to think about it, to over-analyze and obsess, choosing instead to focus on the way being with him made her feel. The way sometimes when she said no or not yet, even she wasn't entirely sure anymore why. With a shy smile and butterflies in her tummy, Layla nodded, confirming that she'd meant what she said.

Her fingers traced the angular edge near the back of his jaw, following the sharp turn there. "I want to go camping with you."

One of his hands pressed at her lower back to bring her closer to him so that he could feel her, warm and up against him, when they kissed. His lips against hers were slow, breaking away so that their foreheads were pressed to one another's when he spoke, "Then we'll go camping." His smile was broad enough that it showed his teeth and the shallow hint of a would-be dimple.

"Do you have hiking boots and all that or do we need to pick up some stuff for you?" Jeremy had extra ropes and even a female harness if she wanted to climb, but he wasn't thinking that would be something they would tackle on their first trip. Mostly he didn't want the wrong pair of shoes, or not having enough socks, to ruin her time in the mountain with him.

Kissing Jeremy was a little bit like being lifted into the air. Warm, like sun on her upturned face, heat gathering in the web of tangled lashes; weightless, like the earth had suddenly fallen away underneath her. By the time he pulled away, his forehead pressed to hers and that gorgeous smile stretching across his mouth, Layla was breathless, exhilarated, her answering smile as big and bright as his.

Talk of proper equipment brought her slowly back to ground, though it took her a second to adjust. Hiking boots" Oh, right. Camping. With a little laugh and a shake of her head, there was a mantle of pink that draped high cheek bones as she gave a little shrug. "I thought about....getting some to surprise you, but I was afraid I would choose the wrong thing."

"I'll take you if you like?" Since it was something he enjoyed doing, he was clearly interested in taking her. He hadn't found anyone else in Rhy'Din to do those things with. Someone who wanted to curl up in the tent at night. Maybe walk to the waterfall during the day or find some blackberries or something. Usually it was all about just walking around and finding something you liked but the strain of how to get there was what made it as fun as it was.

"Actually, I really....really want to take you." The admission came shortly after and then he leaned back, picking up his glass of tea for a swallow. When he set it down one of his hands made itself at home along her side, watching the little curve of her mouth as he waited for her response.

Layla was already in the process of nodding, agreeing. She wanted Jeremy to take her. Already the dark cloud that had been darkening his brow seemed to have lifted; there was a new buoyancy in the way he smiled, the way his hand cupped her side. Maybe it was just a temporary distraction from the weight of the situation at hand, but it made her feel warm inside to know that for now, at least, that's not where his mind was anymore.

"I want you to take me, too. Maybe this afternoon?"

"This afternoon' I thought you wanted....camping" Stars....trees...?" It was strange to want something for a while and then, upon receiving it, feel like there was an awkward stumble. Now....like now-now" Now was supposed to be in a few days and not in a few hours" There was a look away from her to the insides of his apartment. No flowers, no aromatherapy candles or intimate music. Maybe he was overthinking the whole thing or had misread the situation'

"Yeah I mean....you can go get us some lunch somewhere and I'll pick up around here and everything and we'll just....yeah." If she could just disappear and not watch him set things up, pick things up, that'd help. Seeing his gym clothes or his filthy work clothes or just the sort of....general, unkempt nature of his home would be for the best. None of that was intimate staging.

Confusion wrote itself into the corners of her expression, her forehead wrinkling as she struggled to follow his train of thought. "I ....do want camping?" Temporarily bewildered, Layla took a moment to collect her glass of tea, taking a few sips from it before she spoke again. "...I ...I do not understand. You have to clean up before we can go get the....the hiking boots and whatever else I need?"

"You want me to take you in hiking boots..." It wasn't an image he would readily forget, but it was starting to dawn on him, the miscommunication. "Oh. OH." And with that he gripped the outside of her arm with one hand, his free hand shaking back and forth as if to erase the last few minutes of their discussion, "Sorry, I thought you were talking about something else. Nononono....we can go right now and get that together, that's fine." He was trying his best not to blush from having misunderstood her, but that wasn't working very well, either. Color crawled up his throat and he could feel the heat of it on his face.

"Let's get you those boots, yeah?" He turned away from her in a really shotty attempt at not looking as embarrassed or flustered as he was. One small side step and he went to the door, his back to her which was allowing for his face to cool while he shoved his feet into sandals.

Layla, for her part, hadn't the first clue what something else he thought she'd been talking about, and it showed in the way her expression had gone completely blank. She stared, confused, while he held her arm and apologized. "Oh...okay."

The girl blinked as that blush began to suffuse over his face - now she was even more confused - but he turned away before she could confirm what she was seeing. Shaking her head, she tucked a loose tendril of glossy black behind the shell of her ear, a little smile playing over her mouth as she moved back towards the door. Slipping her shoes back on, she pressed one warm hand to the small of his back. "...Are you....alright?"

Preceding him inside, Layla looked up and back over her shoulder at him, a curious smile on her face. "Is that so?" She stepped through the open doorway and then to the left, clearing space for him to come in as her gaze moved over the restaurant's interior. "And just what am I doing on your mind, Jeremy?" The question, like his comment, came in a softer tone, a hum that was only a few shades above a whisper as she glanced back up at him, sidelong.

"Quite a bit," he said that part softly, like he was hoping it could get swept under the rug. There was one savior for him (maybe) and that was the teller behind the counter who greeted them with a lopsided grin.

"Welcome to Rhy'Din Wraps, Wildest Wraps in Town." Jeremy didn't know if the teenager had a pointed tooth or if was because the one he could see in his uneven smile was badly chipped. There always was some reason that he couldn't get a glimpse of the kid's full set of teeth. It was something he idly wondered about from time to time. Putting his hand at Layla's lower back he pointed to the first, "I like the club and I likeeee...." his gaze moved over the menu and then his fingertip dabbed at the air, near where it was listed from their line of sight, "The BELT. It's like a BLT, the bacon lettuce and tomato, but they add eel" It's not what you'd think, it's kinda....sweet and BBQed and it's not like....weird or fishy or anything."

Layla caught what he'd said, but there was no time to comment on it. Instead she offered the kid behind the counter a smile in greeting that was demure, almost shy. Her chin dropped in a soft nod- somewhere between acknowledgment and appreciation for being acknowledged in the first place, and then she was preoccupied in listening to Jeremy's recommendations.

Lifting her gaze to the overhead menu, she scanned the other items quickly while Jeremy spoke. The second offering he mentioned had her attention, and her head tipped curiously as she turned away from reading the marquis, focusing on him for a time instead. She would not have thought that Jeremy would eat eel, and the fact that he seemed to want to assure her about its flavor was....totally endearing.

"I have had eel before," said the girl when he was finished, and the smile she gave him was a thousand times brighter than the one she'd given the Rhy'Din Wraps employee. "But now I feel like I have to try this, since you like it so..."

"I mean," Jeremy said, before the man behind the counter could, "it's sweet and melty so you might not even notice it." His hand rested, with the authority a boyfriend's hand, right at her waist as he spoke. His eyebrows ticked upward, the look of innocence and uncertainty mingled together.

"Two, please," he motioned with the curl of his index and middle finger to the teenager behind the counter. The kid smirked, shook his head, then punched in their order on the register. A few seconds later he had to yell it over his shoulder to the kitchen staff. Apparently there were some technology issues that had yet to be resolved with the system.

Layla seemed perfectly at ease with that hand in place, a thing she probably wouldn't have been had it not been there. It gave her a sense of comfort, of proximity, but also of something else she couldn't quite put into words. Belonging, perhaps, like she had a more of a right to be there because she was escorted.

That, and because she just really liked the warmth of Jeremy's hands on her body.

She lingered near his side, the fabric of his shirt folding against the fabric of hers, her gaze moving from Jeremy to the guy behind the counter. She smiled and said nothing, instead watching the exchange between them, and then between the counter guy and the kitchen staff.

His arms were around her, a cage of sorts. Both palms hugging the edge of the counter. From that vantage point he kissed the side of her neck and then retreated, catching the two offered cups to him to ice 'em up and fill 'em up. Water with lemon for both, apparently. He generally stuck to tea, water or booze. Someone had to pick their vices, right'

The ice danced in his cup before he filled it and smiled at her, "You can blame me if you don't like it." He leaned forward to kiss her throat and then set the cups down, priming them with lids and then half-bent straws.

The embrace brought a warm smile to her face, and Layla leaned in closer still, tucking one arm around his hips in kind. The kiss at her neck was met with one to his shoulder, and then they were separating so he could fill the drinks. Water suited her just fine, made up the majority of her beverage choices anyway.

Giggling voicelessly, Layla shook her head, her dark eyes flashing like she had a secret. "...I am very sure it will be good," she promised him, a shiver crawling over her shoulders and down her spine as she tipped her head back, giving him better access to her throat.

"They're bring the sandwiches around to us when it's ready," another catch to the skin of her throat at the bend she'd offered him. After that, he sank into his spot at the two seater near the middle of the room. A few of the tables were occupied. His mouth caught the straw cylinder and drew it in closer for a draw that hollowed out his cheeks as he watched her. One of his feet did a fish hook motion ahead to catch one of hers behind the ankle and draw her foot up closer to him.

Jeremy pulled away and Layla followed, taking the chair opposite his. Her smile lounged, unhurried, in the crest of her mouth, as though it had no particular plans and nowhere more interesting to be than there, between them.

She giggled again when her foot was taken hostage, leaning forward with both arms on the table to close more of the distance between them since that seemed to be the objective. The happy mood he seemed to be in was infectious - the more affectionate he was the more her responses were encouraging. Turning one hand over on the table top, she curled her fingers at him, an invitation to take them up again.

He looked down at the hand and paused, playfully, as if he had to think about whether or not to take them. His downward gaze was suspicious but it didn't last long. His grin spread and then both hands dropped down, scooping up hers and folding their fingers together with a grin. His eyes shifted once to the counter to check on their order, even if he knew it was impossible to be ready that soon. Or, well, if it was ready that soon that'd be rather suspicious.

"So....we'll get you some hiking boots, first. It's the most important part and I may have to break up with you if it goes badly," this was said with a mock-innocence, of course.

That skeptical look on his face - like maybe her outstretched hands had become poisonous spiders in the last thirty seconds - had Layla opening her mouth in an indignant gasp. As his hands dropped to land in hers, the girl made a show of acting like she was going to pull them away, out of reach.

She didn't though, couldn't, and neither could she help the way a grin broke out on her face when their fingers were laced together. Dark eyes widened in surprise, her brows lifting for the overhead lights. "...Goes badly' How does....getting hiking boots....go badly?"

"Big feet." He answered her, the half-smile not one he could fight off from his lips. Maybe he saw that she thought about wiggling her hands away from his. Instead he gripped a bit more tightly as if to say 'I saw that and....no.' The explanation on boot issues continued, "Like if you have a size thirteen foot or something and could borrow my shoes then....I don't know. I just can't look down by the doorway and feel like a man in drag is coming to see me at night."

Better believe he was holding onto her hands just then. Playful swats or real ones had to be discouraged!

She was absolutely trying to tug her hands away at this point, so it's probably a good thing Jeremy had a hold of them so tightly. When her efforts were unsuccessful— no way to grab a napkin and throw it at him, or flick ice from her glass in his direction— Layla took the only avenue left open to her and....stuck her tongue out at him.

"You've seen my feet plenty of times." Grumbled the girl, her lower lip protruding in a pout, her brows furrowed. You can believe she tried to maybe pull her captured foot away, too. "I can practically put both of them in one of your shoes."

"I might have protected myself and blocked how enormous and floppy they were out of my mind," he grinned and then bowed his head to kiss the side of her hand because it was the portion that was easiest to reach. At that point his grip on her eased— she had a swatting window now if she still needed to take it. Now that she was boasting about how petite her feet were he leaned far to one side, peering over the edge of the table to steal a little glance, "Are you sure that you were comparing them to my shoes and not to a set of rain boots, or something?"

Almost relenting -almost- when he kissed her hand, her expression set in a faux scowl at his next words. "I do not know, Jeremy, do you only wear rain boots?" Tugging her right hand free, she dipped her fingers into her water glass, lifted them out again and flicked the droplets at him with a quick snap of her wrist. With any luck, the blacksmith got a little baby shower.

At the same time, the girl scooted closer in her chair and then lifted her legs, tucking them underneath her in a pretzel fashion on the seat so he couldn't stare at her feet.

"Huh?" He wiped his mouth with the thin paper napkin at her first question. The tapping at the back of her heel stopped and he smiled, slightly confused at where the question had come from or what prompted her to ask it.

The follow up on, well, that was easy, "Oh, it doesn't travel well. Not at all but....all I'll want to do is curl up and sleep if I eat your half, too." His legs bent to catch under himself and push up so that he leaned over the table and collected their red plastic baskets and balled up bits of trash. "And falling asleep now just wouldn't do, not when there are hiking boots to get for your big, floppy feet." He wasn't going to look at her when he said it.

It was a really good thing that he had already gathered up all the debris from the table when he said that. The weapons left at her disposal were limited to the plastic salt and pepper shakers, what little was left of the ice in her cup. Scowling at his back, Layla made a face at his retreating figure, not that he could see.

While he was attending to that, the girl stood, sweeping a coiled tendril of black or two back from her jaw. Quickly she patted her mouth with her fingers, making sure there weren't crumbs on her face, and then smoothed down any wrinkles in her pants. By the time he returned, the artist was ready and waiting for him, her arms crossed, her full lips drawn down into a pout.

Jeremy's head tilted, neck craning to get a look down at her feet before he admitted, "Well, I suppose they aren't that big and floppy after all." He reached out to catch her just under the chin, her face steered towards his for a quick meeting of their lips. His left arm pushed around her, catching the bar of the shop door to shove it open. The middle aged man who was now behind the counter called out 'good day' to them and Jeremy waved at him with his free hand just as they stepped back out.

"Where I got my boots was....over there..." he pointed along the way. The shop wasn't in view, but that was the direction of it.

It was easier being affectionate with her and that was undeniably tied to the fact that he wasn't concerned about behaving himself or getting into trouble. "Getting into trouble" was part of the plan, now, and not something to be politely avoided least he seem as though he were pressuring her or attempting to "get away" with more than he should. Women didn't always know what that temptation was like, how the instinct to be with them was always whispering ideas about where hands and clothes should be going. Now he knew his actions wouldn't seem to be trying to con her, to persuade her, because she'd already made up her mind.

Whatever the motivation or underlying change might have been, Layla found that she quite liked this side of Jeremy. The happy vibrancy to his energy, the way his playful, attentive nature seemed more pronounced than usual. The girl didn't know, couldn't have known, how much he'd been holding back, how reserved he'd had to be, how careful.

At least somewhat appeased by his recanting about her feet, the rest of her pout melted away at his kiss. Chin upturned and caught in his grasp, she lifted one hand to gently trace the line of his throat before he pulled away, only to wrap his arm around her again.

Back outside, Layla carefully plucked her sunglasses from where they were perched atop her head, trying not to snag the little branches in her hair as she slid them back into place over her eyes. Falling into step beside him, the girl hooked one arm around his hips, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt on the opposite side. "I am not even sure I knew where to find such things," she commented with a laugh. "It is good you are here to guide me."

"There's a few places. Folks like to go camping here and there but....you know. It being the dead of Summer not as many people are doing it but," A motion to the air, to a place that was beyond their ability to see, "There are mountains not far off from here where when we hike up them it isn't going to be nearly so hot so it'll be fine. Just people want to camp at the island or the glen, all the places around here." His arm rested like it was tied at certain points of her shoulders when they walked.

Jeremy was tall and, prior to his richer diet and heavier work load, he could have been described as compact and svelte. Some hints of that origin remained. His shoulders still spread broadly, his height hadn't changed. He just looked less like a swimmer and more like the blacksmith he was. "I haven't gone swimming around here, yet. Just camping here and there in some spots."

"...Is there somewhere to go swimming up there, on the mountain?" The girl gestured in the same direction Jeremy had with her free hand, since she couldn't actually see where he was pointing. The other arm seemed likewise bound about his waist, tethered there and unable to be dislodged. Though she walked easily beside him, her body was more or less fitted to his from shoulder to hip, but for the gap caused by the gentle intake of her waist.

"I have not been swimming since I left home." She explained a moment later, and there was that telltale stain of pink that spread slowly across her cheeks. She had been swimming before - lots of times, in fact - but never in RhyDin, and never in the presence of a man. It gave her a little bit of a thrill to contemplate, but hadn't she agreed to much more than swimming already? Why deny herself this simple pleasure then, considering" "...I do not think I remembered to bring my bathing suit, though. I would probably need a new one."

"They might have some in the shop. It's all outdoorsy stuff and swimming is part of that. They won't be like....the sunbathing sort." Jeremy wasn't used to nudity being such a taboo issue. Were people not supposed to strut around naked everywhere" Sure. But women and men were usually topless at the beach, sometimes fully nude. It tended to be something that depended more upon the presence of kids than upon being morally decent. He hadn't lived near the shore so it was only once a year, or every couple, that he and he friends would take a vacation to the shore line to have a good time.

"But I don't think there's anywhere to swim up at the mountain. There's a waterfall but..." He shrugged his shoulders as if to say that it just wasn't an ideal situation. The "waterfall" was only an eight foot drop, at best. The depth of the creak it ran from was as much as three or four feet but for the most part it was a small pulse of water that one couldn't do much more than sit in.

Layla wrinkled her nose with a little giggle - the concept of 'sunbathing' was pretty alien. The 'not sunbathing' kind of suit sounded perfect to her. But then she took note of what he was saying, about there not really being any water up there to swim in anyway. "Ah, well. Maybe next time, then." Said the girl, a little shrug moving over her shoulders — the gesture was slight so as not to disturb the mantle of his arm.

"So what else do I need for camping, besides hiking boots?" Lifting her chin to look up at him as they approached the shop, she hooked her thumb through the belt loop of his pants on the opposite side.

Sexy underwear. Stockings. One of those tiny robes that stopped in the middle of the thigh. "Socks are important. Number one rule for hiking and travel is not to let your feet get wet, or stay wet." That was also something reinforced in the military. His small stint in boot camp had ingrained that, along with his past time of reading about military stories. He turned his head, bowing it to kiss her cheek before he nodded, "That's the shop." The sign out front read 'The Territory Ahead.'

He stopped, giving her shoulders a squeeze with his arm, "Time to get some good hiking boots and socks."

Seemed like maybe those poor sad kittens had all gotten adopted, huh'

Tilting her face into that kiss, her gaze lifted to the sign for the store, a faint smile lingering on her face as they reached the door. "...And apparently maybe break up," she added, her dark eyes flashing as they cut sidelong at him with a feigned scowl.

"...Hiking boots and socks." Repeating the words to herself as she stepped inside, Layla was immediately impressed with just how much....outdoorsy stuff....there really was. This was a world that was completely unknown to her, and she couldn't begin to fathom what the purpose of some of the items she saw for sale might be. Some of it made more sense - camping could apparently be a highly elaborate affair, so much so that it hardly seemed to be all that different from just...staying in a house in the woods — and then some of it was completely perplexing. There were sports and activities represented here that she'd never heard of.

Their was day spent trying on the various hiking boots. Getting one that was comfortable but also one she liked. New socks were also a must. While she had her own cotton ones, Jeremy preferred the type that were "engineered" to keep your feet dry by what they were made of and how they were sewn. He'd never gotten foot rot himself but all the reading he'd done made him paranoid, and certain, that it wasn't something he ever wanted to experience.

Other shopping items included figuring out what they would eat and just what they would be willing to haul. Jeremy only had his backpack so she was fitted with one as well. For a weekend trip, though, it shouldn't have been too much that they needed to bring.

At the end of the day he had carried her new things to her place. Discussion became silenced because of kissing. Walking away was harder than he thought it'd be. Suddenly he felt that all his would-be advances were okay. No, they shouldn't rush it, or into it. Eventually, he broke away, managing to keep from stepping inside and instead returned to his own home.

This weekend. Could it come soon enough"