“He doesn’t like sand,” Decker offers, motioning to Kylian’s setup with the dismissive sweep of one hand. “The less contact he makes with it, the less whining he subjects us to.” “I do not whine,” Kylian counters in a huff. “What’s there to like about sand, anyway? It gets everywhere. It clings to all the wrong places. You find it for days after leaving the beach, even after multiple showers. Sand is the glitter of the sea.”
