(no subject)

There was so much that he had to get used to. Gradually, slowly, he was getting used to island life. Iskierka was growing at an alarming rate (and Granby was finding it difficult to shake the feeling of history repeating). They were making a home out of the hut that they shared. In the Corps, Granby was used to keeping close quarters, but this was his first time trying to make a life with someone, alongside them and in equal parts. It was a strange feeling, not entirely different from learning to do everything with one hand.

But not an unpleasant feeling, for all that.

He sat on the sand, heels dug in, and he sketched. It was difficult to keep his pad level, but he persevered. He watched Izkierka's shape against the sun.
Despite everything, it felt very much like home.