"A rest would be astonishingly welcome," she agreed. "And some time out of the sun." With a few blinks, she got most of the sand out of her eyelashes, then shook out her shirtfront onto the floor of the crevasse. A small sand dune formed; with a sigh, she pushed it off into a corner.
"I've decided I hate sand," she added conversationally. "And sun. And walking."
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"I've decided I hate sand," she added conversationally. "And sun. And walking."