“A detective,” Vigga parroted. The book in her hand didn’t get much further than that. In fact, she stared at it’s cover while her other hand haphazardly helped place more of his belongings in his trunk. She wasn’t really looking at where she was aiming. It wasn’t too much longer before she stopped helping altogether and sat down with her legs crossed and opened the book on her lap.

These papers with the ink and the words fascinated Vigdis. Being raised by pirates, she didn’t exactly have the greatest education. Swimming, climbing, lock picking, sword fighting… sure. Reading and writing… nope. Those hadn’t been on the lesson plan for her. “There ain’t any pictures.” Hands that were used to hard labor ran over the pages as if she were trying to absorb the words on the pages. “What does the detective do?”

Big dark eyes looked up at Tristan with an almost child-like curiosity and a soft smile on her lips. Sitting on the platform, with the exploded suitcase strewn about, was definitely not the place or time to be asking questions about books. Vigdis didn’t seem to care. The item she tried to distract him with ended up distracting her from what she originally set out to do.