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Cicada Nights
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Paris sometimes wondered how Soren was going to afford the trip. His parents were some sort of white collar if Paris recalled correctly. Maybe it was just savings or some other sort of mystical miracle.

Paris glanced at the waiter when he returned with the menu. Then back at Soren, who looked vaguely alright as ever.

"Napoli, then?" Paris had an okay Italian accent, not the best because he slurred the syllables a bit too much. With more practice he'd get it better. "Then up north through the peninsula? Following the coast or the countryside, either way we'll be seeing all kinds of cool stuff." Supposedly the more interesting historical ruins were further inland. Churches, monasteries, that sort of thing. "What about Sicilia though? Maybe we'd want to double back at some point?" Paris didn't particularly know. He was just idly throwing ideas out there. It was all on the table after all, as long as someone brought a little extra money in the pocket.

"The islands like... Corsica, it's Corsica right? Those would also be interesting stops." Paris grabbed a handful of his fries and began to bite them down by the half. "You going to order anything?" He asked when he had a moment with a clear mouth and clear mind, nothing to say otherwise. "It's about dinner time, might as well. I can cover for you if you want, no problemo."
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The Trees and the Bramble · Benson's Bar and Grill
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