[center][h2][color=OrangeRed]Thomas Argyll[/color][/h2]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/vBff0Oy.jpg[/img][/center]
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Thomas did not mind the wait as minutes ticked by. The sun was out, which he knew was a bit of luck at this time of year along the Atlantic coast. The wind was not cold, just mildly cool, as it flowed over him and he took deep breaths of the fresh air, glad to be away from the crush of people, the stink of humanity, that always came with travelling on airplanes or public transit. 

He reckoned he had been roadside for thirty minutes or so, the bus of waving students long gone, and was just considering walking back to the bus stop to get the next ride when a small silver hatchback careening down the road, the sound of some sort of techno music he had never heard before. Still, the driver, a young woman with blonde hair that was whipping violently in the wind as she drove. 

To his surprise she slowed as she approached, clearly giving him a once over and judging his suitability as a passenger. He could see she was petite and her car was sized to match. The back was loaded with all sorts of gear that looked like it might belong to a photographer. That was promising. He usually got along well with artistic types, as long as they weren't painters. He couldn't wrap his head around most painted art these days. The music quieted as the car ghosted closer and he smiled as he made eye contact with the driver.

The vehicle finally came to a stop and the driver gave him another look, a small frown on her face. He was concerned for a brief moment but then she reached across the drivers seat and shoved open the door. He had to take a step back to avoid the edge as it nearly smacked him in the face at the same moment he had bent down to speak with the driver. 

"Where to Mountain Man?" Her accent was Scottish, a proper local then. That was perfect. She had pulled a camera from the front seat, along with a pair of shoes and was stuffing them into the back. "Might be a bit of a squeeze, sorry about that." She said with a grin, the windows sliding up and a delicate finger snapping on the heat. 

"In to town, please. Though..." He glanced into the already filled vehicle. "My gear might be a tight fit. That alright?"

She looked at his bags, looked at him, into the back and then nodded. "Sure, just careful of my camera."

He nodded, thanked her, and grabbed his big duffle bag which he carefully wedged into the back of the hatchback, completely obscuring her rear window. Then he stuffed himself and his backpack into the front seat, the small cars shocks groaning at the weight. 

It took him a couple tries to get the door closed but at last he was in, knee's up on the dashboard, heat blasting his bare legs, head tilted slightly against the roof so he could fit. He gave the driver a grin.

"The names Thomas. Last chance to say no and give your poor car a rest."

[@mercenarius]