After while of riding unnoticed with Panam, she looks over to the side and turns the steering wheel to go off road. The ground beneath you stirs and shakes more than before on this rocky terrain, making it pretty hard not to roll under the bottom of your friend’s boot. Panam’s foot finally lets go of the gas pedal it’s been hugging for the last hour, while the other one suddenly moves the push down the break.
The giant woman cracks one of her adorable smiles as she stares out of the window, having parked herself in a spot with a great view. It’s a view you’ll never get to see however, as in your position, the only thing you get to look at, is a titan sized Panam, but maybe that’s not too bad of a view either. Your traveling companion leans against the back of her seat, pulling the lever to it tilt a bit.
“Can’t beat this freedom.” She says. “I don’t know how those city folk do it, being cooped up like that.”
Panam looks down at her boots. Your eyes widen in surprise, thinking she might have seen you.
“Speaking about cooped up.” She says, before raising her knee.
You realize want she means, when she takes off her boot, setting it down in the foot compartment of the passenger seat, before lowering a grey socked foot down towards you. You run to the side and dodge it just in time. Then her other boot gets raised off the ground, and pulled off the giant woman’s foot. This time she accidentally lets it fall over, when she puts it in the passenger’s foot area. You almost squeak like a mouse, when her other foot also descents on you. You run so hard in the other direction you almost bump into her resting foot.
Panam smiles. “Feels good to let them some air, good thing no one’s around to smell ‘em.”
That’s where she’s wrong though, not only could you smell her feet, but you were so close the entire air was poison to you. Now that she was finally keeping them still, you found yourself with one of Panam’s socks on either side of you. You walk up to the toe end to make your way out from between the woman’s feet, trying to covering your nose in vain. As you sit down in front of your friend’s feet, looking the shape of her toes beneath fabric of her socks, you wonder how her foot smell could be this bad. You guess, it was probably normal for a nomad like Panam, having your socks locked up for days, in boots like these, in the middle of the boiling hot badlands, those feet where bound to develop a strong scent.
The longer you’re forced to sit at your friend’s dirty grey socks, the more you get used to their smell. You stop letting yourself be bothered by it, and appreciate the company of your friend, even if she’s unaware of yours.
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