Fenig, feeling substantially lost and ill prepared, sat in her chair, waiting for something to happen. Way to be, Fen. Sit and wait your way through life. She sighed, once again proving to herself that she had good reason to despise her inner monologue. It tended to berate her quite frequently. "Shut up, head. You're just pissy that you can't remember last night."
"Not a very good beginning to your vacation, forgetting things and talking to yourself, is it?"
She expected Nigel and turned in her seat, wheeling around a very not nice thing to say to her long standing friend. Though the face that greeted her was hardly Nigel. For one, he was too tall to be Nigel. Though not by much. "Oh, uhm. Hello." Somehow, Miss Quit Wit, you never cease to amaze me. She winced at her rude inner monologue once again and contemplated shoving a Q-Tip in her ear to silence it.
"Hi. Corran Horn. Nice to meet you,...."
"Nice prompting, Corran. Fenig Durak. And I wasn't exactly talking to myself. Just sort of.... alright. I was talking to myself." Her smile turned to a piteous half smirk of embarassment.
Corran laughed, "No worries, that's not so uncommon with this group. Have you seen Wedge around recently?" His hand ran through his sandy blonde (brown, whatever) hair a bit nervously. Nice segue, Horn. This inner monologue thing had to be catching. That would explain it.
"Oh, yeah. I sort of woke up in his lap not too long ago, but he went that way just after I woke up." She turned a bit more in her seat and pointed toward the side entrance that led toward the Hotel's kitchens. "But I don't remember how long ago that was." She turned a set of pleading hazel eyes up at him, begging not to be left alone. No one likes to be sitting alone in a chair.
Continued in 29