Re: Kit & Noah: the B&B
Kit began rummaging in the knapsack slung across his shoulders. It was leather and old, well-creased and the man folded into himself to do it, long limbs like an umbrella closing neatly. He found his wallet with a degree of faint achievement given how much else was crammed into the bag and looked up, the same shy impermanence of gaze as before. It occurred to him that Noah was kind, in much the same momentary way of observing the temperature. "Oh. I'm employed," he said, off-hand, clearing his throat once, and smiling a little. "I can afford it."
Noah moved toward the window as he spoke. Kit's thoughts flicked briefly to what Repose meant, over the vague synonyms and antonyms and said: "You mean it isn't particularly sleepy?" He remembered small towns as no sleepier or more awake than any other kind of town. "I heard about the ghosts." His smile grew a little stronger, sketched itself into his cheek.