Scott left breakfast in an infectiously good mood. He was so glad he'd been able to talk to Keman. Any conversation that eventually turned into fun times with fork fights was a good one in his book, no matter how awkwardly said conversation might have started out. Even the cold outside wasn't enough to bother him; it helped that compared to some of the North Ontarian winters he'd lived through, the temperature right now was downright balmy. His still-injured leg and healing arm were an annoyance, sure, but those things too would pass. He was sure that they wouldn't hamper him nearly as much during the coming night, and he was even more sure that in the nights following, he would be back to full-on Butt-Kicking Mode.

Scott took a full, cool breath of the crisp air, letting it permeate his lungs and make his body tingle pleasantly. He let it out in a big cloud of condensation as he leaned back onto one of the benches. "Heh. Kinda looks like a Pac-Man ghost," he said to himself as he watched his cloud of breath dissipate.

[Freeeeeee~ no limits.]