Lake Lewisia #550

[scrubjayspeaks]

Perched in the hay loft, legs dangling over the edge, Shannon watched the rest of the tour group sleeping in piles, naturally sorted into their clusters and at ease despite the unexpected accommodations. Even Ayda, who counted in her parentage a sentient dust storm and who had inherited both a bone-deep restlessness and a permanent cloud of telekinetic sand, slept at last with her sand cloud just a still outline around her. Though she had worn herself out trying to assist anyone she could with the unloading and setting up, Shannon found herself too aware of her status as "little sister along for the experience" to settle in anywhere, and so she listened to the night creakings of the old barn and fantasized about fixing the bus herself somehow.

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LL#550