Always a lightweight, even on a boat. Sometimes Loras wished he was at least middle weight, but no, he had to be a small guy who no one was afraid was. At least, not until he actually clocked them in the face. After a gratuitous roll of his eyes, Loras parked himself on the boat and held on, nearly falling over when the boat left the port.
"Dick," he accused as he balanced himself again. He lifted the lid to the cooler to peer inside. "Did you grab any beer?" he asked, because not only did fishing entail sitting on a hot metal seat, but there had to be beer.