The thin, wrinkled plastic sleeve comes loose, a sudden gust shivering it down to the driftwood. For it size, it makes a lot of noise, catching in between fallen branches and the remains of a picked-at gull picnic. Penny makes with the flick-flicking, cornering the cigarette between her lips and twists her body carefully but the trenchcoat slips its knots and blood seeps through her shirts.