There is the barest trace of longing tinting her words, despite her attempt at nonchalance. He is ever the quiet observer and, even with his lack of magic, has learned to pluck unspoken words from another’s mind as easily as a hair from the head. Or, perhaps it is the fact that though they may be miles apart in generation, they have commonality in the simple fact that the homes that they once knew have been laid to waste. He nods briefly, assenting to the statement that dismisses the unfamiliar names of the places she’d mentioned, but the movement quickly turns to one of disagreement. “That’s one way to look at it. Lovely is the rose in bloom, blushed with her own vitality, but sometimes there is beauty in the ruin as well.” And he speaks truthfully. He may have no affinity for water at the moment, but even its overwhelming abundance still lends itself to create a pleasant aesthetic that is largely masked by the bitterness and pain of loss. As he casts his gaze to the water again, drops scatter high and far as the waves kick up their heels playfully, creating sprays that glitter enticingly beneath the dwindling light. For a moment, he loses himself in altered topography, wondering what other revisions lay ahead of them and if assimilation will be any easier when the time comes.
He is pulled back by the purr of her voice before he can wander too far along the serpentine path his thoughts create. The chortle that bursts from his mouth is certainly the loudest noise he’s made in their brief time together. A red-blooded sparkle dances in his eyes in response to the kittenish glow in hers. He winks slyly, brought back to his days as a mischievous colt that enjoys a bit of shameless flirting. “I won’t say that it was wrong or right, but my heyday was a simpler and far more primeval time, and, perhaps it may paint me as a bit of a troglodyte to say this, but I’ll never not crave the touch of a woman.. no matter how cold. And you know, even winter’s thickest frost eventually yields to the temperance of spring..”
The contentment steals over him as freely as it does Adriana, but it does not last as long as he would have preferred. He listens attentively to her reasons, not quite understanding the intent behind her parents’ strictness. Then again, he was one of the many that had not been born to a loving family, nor had he gone out of his way to raise his own. Still, he does understand the idea of avoiding war. “Discordant nations are not exactly vacationing grounds, so I suppose I can see why a protective father wouldn’t want his pretty little girl wandering into their midsts..” He pauses, for he knows the type that her father was trying to keep her from crossing paths with. But then she throws a question to him that gives him reason for a greater pause. Where will he go?
”I’m not sure. I am like a stranger in my own home. It may be time to do some exploring to reacquaint myself with this place..” ...and myself. In truth, it’s not just that he is unfamiliar with his surroundings, it is also that he doesn’t feel as though he even knows himself anymore. Perhaps it is due to the prolonged isolation he had recently escaped, or that he feels left behind in the apparent magical advancements of the world, or maybe it is the dawning realization that he is no longer content with purposelessness. His eye wanders from her to the horizon yet again and he unconsciously moves toward the tree line. He feels a brief urge to ask her to join his travels, but he is not sure it is wise. As keen as he is to continue spending his time with her, he does not see the point in laying the temptation of possible betrayal of her familial bonds at her feet simply because he has none of his own. ”I will eventually return to this place, though.” He hopes that she will see this for what he intends.. an open invitation to meet him here again, to pick up their companionship where he will be leaving it.
@Adriana