Ravenshook Cliffs kind of mood that you wish you could sell

velen managed to hold back all but one snicker, sighing loudly as he was laid to rest in a spray of grit. this was how it was supposed to be, he wanted to wail; the idea of getting sand in his mouth did not sit well with the boy, and so he decided to shut his trap for now.
a moment, and then dalia's soft voice. "won't you let me be at pe —" velen began in the grousing voice of a disturbed spirit, but her teeth had set to gently chivvying him awake, and he opened his chestnut eyes to regard the girl's freckled face, inches from his own.
the former dredge was still, gazing up at her for that iota of time. did she know how pretty she was? or that she reminded him of summertime flowers along the coast??
stop
she was ford's woman, right? or was gonna be? velen had no business ... yeah. the boy blinked, grinned churlishly at dalia, and rolled his eyes. the game must go on. "do you make it a habit of waking up ghosts, hmm?"