now and then there's a light in the darkness;
feel around 'til you find where your heart went.
”Tyrna,” he murmurs aloud, willing the simple yet decidedly unusual name to memory, as his dark hazel eyes search the feminine slope of cheek and the mottled shadow of her skin, interrupted by the broad blaze that accentuates her searing gaze. Though her tone is mellow – calm – and her smile is one of benevolence, tension remains within his taut muscles, as wary of her as she is of him, though his carefree smile does not betray the uncertainty lingering in the back of his mind. ”the pleasure is my own.”
He can feel her glacial stare boring into him as her bright eyes (as vivid and as blue as the morning sky) search him, observing the ridges of bone beneath a golden canvas, analyzing him as he had done to her only moments ago. A glint of amusement soon flickers within his gold flecked gaze, but still, he examines the shadow in the hollow of her pupils, and soon he is stoic – the once warm smile falling away. There is a weariness within her rigid posture, within the darkness of her gaze – a weariness he has never known himself.
”Home,” he murmurs, as the rippling water presses powerfully against his legs. ”the only home I have known is surrounded by the ocean itself.” A pause, his words weighing heavily on his tongue as he rifles through his own thoughts, plucking out the precise wording that can convey his true meaning. ”The only home I have known came after the Reckoning. I grew restless and I have been a wanderer ever since, and when the mist lifted, well,” his smile returns. ”I found myself here. I think I might make it my own. A place to linger when wandering is no longer enough; without politics to taint it.”
”What is home to you?”
