soran
he dreams of water
It is quite apparent to Soran that his presence is a surprise to her, similar in how he is surprised to have actually run into her. He comes to a gentle stop before the opalescent woman whose wings are still held close to her.
In the back of his mind, he takes note of how she seems more comfortable here. He supposes that anyone would be more comfortable in the land they call home than anywhere else (and if this statement holds true, is he ever really comfortable?).
"I didn't expect to see you again."
He smiles gently at that, for he can assure her that he thought the same when it comes to her.
"Yes, well, it appears that even I am not invincible to the whims of fickle-mindedness." He speaks with a somewhat self-deprecating chuckle. However, it does not cross the line of being harsh on himself, rather it is clearly lighthearted and meant to bridge the gap that Ocean and he being strangers creates.
He notices her eyes —amber, shining like molten-honey against the autumn season— drift behind his shoulder, and Soran cannot help but angle his own neck to allow himself a glimpse behind aswell. His peeping does not last more than a second, though, before he is returning cold eyes to her.
His answer to her question is simple, "If I am being honest, my own curiosity." He admits, not feeling the dark urge to hide anything when nothing needs to be hidden. "You know that I am simply a new face here. I know nothing." Something many would not openly admit to. "And while I am sure I could have learned a thing or two from the young girl you met alongside me well... I'd rather not traverse the conversation that such a curious girl might want to have"
He can remember the subtle glances Desire had taken at his scars, and Soran has never been good at evading the questions of young ones.
They curse his name and existence to hell itself, fire crackles and they laugh and laugh and laugh.
One supposes they should simply run from things when given the option.
He gives Oceane a smile that's just a little tighter. "So, perhaps you'd be willing to offer me even more of an olive branch, so to speak?" He is hardly expecting such a kind gesture, but if one is nice then perhaps one might receive what they wish. "Perhaps by telling me more of... Loess?" The name still sounds foreign on his tongue. "Or of anything, really — but I understand if not, truly." His speech stumbles over itself slightly, showing how he is truly trying to be sincere (had he spoke so hesitantly in front of the lord he advised for he would have been ridiculed).
Clearly, he is out of practice.
@[Oceane]
In the back of his mind, he takes note of how she seems more comfortable here. He supposes that anyone would be more comfortable in the land they call home than anywhere else (and if this statement holds true, is he ever really comfortable?).
"I didn't expect to see you again."
He smiles gently at that, for he can assure her that he thought the same when it comes to her.
"Yes, well, it appears that even I am not invincible to the whims of fickle-mindedness." He speaks with a somewhat self-deprecating chuckle. However, it does not cross the line of being harsh on himself, rather it is clearly lighthearted and meant to bridge the gap that Ocean and he being strangers creates.
He notices her eyes —amber, shining like molten-honey against the autumn season— drift behind his shoulder, and Soran cannot help but angle his own neck to allow himself a glimpse behind aswell. His peeping does not last more than a second, though, before he is returning cold eyes to her.
His answer to her question is simple, "If I am being honest, my own curiosity." He admits, not feeling the dark urge to hide anything when nothing needs to be hidden. "You know that I am simply a new face here. I know nothing." Something many would not openly admit to. "And while I am sure I could have learned a thing or two from the young girl you met alongside me well... I'd rather not traverse the conversation that such a curious girl might want to have"
He can remember the subtle glances Desire had taken at his scars, and Soran has never been good at evading the questions of young ones.
They curse his name and existence to hell itself, fire crackles and they laugh and laugh and laugh.
One supposes they should simply run from things when given the option.
He gives Oceane a smile that's just a little tighter. "So, perhaps you'd be willing to offer me even more of an olive branch, so to speak?" He is hardly expecting such a kind gesture, but if one is nice then perhaps one might receive what they wish. "Perhaps by telling me more of... Loess?" The name still sounds foreign on his tongue. "Or of anything, really — but I understand if not, truly." His speech stumbles over itself slightly, showing how he is truly trying to be sincere (had he spoke so hesitantly in front of the lord he advised for he would have been ridiculed).
Clearly, he is out of practice.
neamrel