Airship

Chapter One : Letters

"But what would you do, if you couldn't find it?"

He laughed at her, "What, my heart, or my foot?"

"I mean, the heart, not the foot really– though, both, I suppose, really... what would you do, if you couldn't find either?" 

"Well, then I'd be a bit bothered I would imagine... or, maybe I wouldn't. Lack of a heart, lack of bother, I think..." he said, tapping his foot, at the top of the hammock... "You know, I have misplaced it, before..." he said. "Didn't move for weeks..."

"...How did you get it back then...? And... We're talking about your heart, right? Not the foot? Which is it, actually?"

He giggled, and made a delighted gasp– he looked like a hamster for a moment, drawing his head close to his neck, "My heart, yes, Isadore!" he chuckled. "I don't think I've misplaced my foot– I suppose I understand the confusion– I likely wouldn't be able to move much without a foot– but, keep up, up, now, will you?!" 

She sighed... tried not to roll her eyes... "Well, how did you get it back then, Bjorn?" she huffed, then gasped... talking to him, lately, felt like she was always losing her breath, at the very same time she had much too much of it...

He grinned to her, and shook his head, "That's just it..." he said.

"What is it?" she grumbled.

He made likely too much of a laugh than was necessary, "I did not get it back myself..." he spoke, delightedly softly. 

"...Who helped you, then...?" she breathed, tapping at the side of the barrel. 

He smiled at her, strangely... his lips looked like they were wobbling together. He parted then, making a little gasp, "I think it was the cleaner," he said, with an unsurely amused shrug...

"But what cleaner?" she grumbled, "You don't have one, Bjorn!!" 

He raised his eyebrows, "No need to get snappy," he chuckled at her, pressing his brows together, shaking his head, as it built to a giggle, "You know I haven't known you long... you didn't forget that, now, did you??" he squinted an eye. 

She glared at him, with tired eyes...

"I used to have a cleaner... not very long ago... the cleaner, however, threw out my hats... I didn't like that, muchly," he said, with a shrug, and a face made neutral. He made an odd hum...

"I've never seen you in a hat," she sighed, moving loose bits of brown hair behind her ear.

"Oh, yes, you have," he chuckled. He moved an arm out from under his head, "I distinctly remember! Don't try and fool me!" he raised his voice to a high inflection, waving his finger her way, matching with his word pattern...

She sighed... "So where was it, then?"

"In the... the stuuudy thing..." he waved his hand, "aaah... somewhere around that... you know the...?" he trailed, looking right at her... he let his hand fall onto his stomach. "Why was it we were talking about this??" he asked, raising a brow.

Isadore sighed, rolling her eyes, "It was due to your unbuttoned shirt..." 

 "Oh..." he looked down at it, then flicked his head up, "right then," he laughed. "Eh, well?" he shrugged a shoulder, "It's not unbuttoned far," he laughed. "Just... three– it's hot after all!" his voice went high.

"Yes... that's why I wore reasonable clothes??" she raised her eyebrow at him, this time.

He began to cackle, leaning his back firmer against the hammock, in a thrust that made it swing side to side, still relatively slow... not that dramatically... he made Isadore so ill feeling... "You get the privilege of wearing a dress, my dear!" he pointed at her.