Re: Exterior: a rest stop, desert.
Famine shook his head. "No, neither of those things. Limits."
He knew well affectation, particularly bored expectation, and he smiled fondly at his dinner companion, settling one sharp elbow on the edge of the peeling formica to hold his equally spare chin. What a familiar animal was youth! He loved it, loved him. Always so hungry for approval. The kindly mirror.
Conscious of this, Famine dropped his arms from their supportive position to fold them in a basket weave across his skinny leather-draped chest, just as the boy propped up his. Famine too, was clean, very rich and very clean.
"Am I your kind of stranger?" Famine preened, touching his dandelion locks where they fluffed over his soft shell ears.