The sand sinks slightly underfoot as Gamzee wanders slow along the shoreline, his steps unhurried, like he ain’t got nowhere particular to be—’cause he don’t. The cool tide rolls in and swirls around his ankles, the water dark and smooth, soaking into the tattered cuffs of his pants. He don’t mind. Feels kinda nice, actually, the way the ocean pulls at him, like it’s trying to rock him into a real easy, slow-drift kind of sleep. He crouches down, letting his fingers trail through the damp sand, picking up a smooth little stone. Turns it over in his palm, watches the way the dim moonlight catches on its wet surface. He hums low in his throat, lazy and content, before lazily tossing the stone into the water. It plunks down, gone without a fuss. Just like everything else. The wind ruffles through his wild mess of hair as he leans back, settling in the sand with a long sigh, arms flopped open at his sides. Just him, the waves, and the great big sky stretching on forever. Feels real nice. Feels just right.