“At least a lot longer than I would like.” Vincent replied sheepishly running a hand through his long golden locks. The sight of her wrapped up in his jacket stirred something primal in him, as a young highschool student he’d longed to have a girlfriend to “go steady” with so that he could give her his jacket, you know, the type of shit you saw in high school romance movies. Yet here was his WIFE wrapped up in essentially the most quintessentially Vince thing he could think of. His sapphire gaze broke from hers as he began to scan the scene around them. Ultimately, they couldn’t stay here. It wasn’t as bad as the cold snap they’d just endured in Texas, but they would both get sick if they stayed out here unprotected from the elements for much longer.

“You know.” he mused, as his eyes swept the scene. “I could swear that I’ve…” he paused for a moment, taking a couple meandering steps towards the nearby pond. “...been here before” he finished as his feet reached the edge of the pond. He felt an intrinsic connection to this place, like it was somehow important to him, and then his gaze fell upon the ruins of what seemed like an old fishing dock and everything clicked. Memories of him, soggy and cold curled up on the musty decking hacking out lungfuls of water and sputtering came crashing down around him. He blinked, stunned.

“Ah, I see.” he mused aloud, turning back to his wife. “We’re right back where I started from.”

This revelation was a small beacon of hope, he realized. For if they were where he’d first landed all those years ago, it would mean that there was a town not too terribly far away. A town would mean an Inn, which would mean a nice warm bed for the two of them to curl up in for the night and perhaps, just perhaps, date night could be salvaged.