Nerine means nothing to him.
Even just the sound of it, all of its letters and all of its syllables, they barrel down one ear just to creep out the other; he’s forgotten as soon as she’s spoken it. Had he known, however, that it was foreign tongue for ‘newly reformed amazons’ he might have paid more attention - he might have even laughed out loud at the irony of finding himself here, of all places, stomping boundaries where he is most certain to be noticed.
“Were you looking for someone?”
He knows the reason that she asks him this, that she’s found him out and, ever so politely, is pointing out his misplacement. For a moment, Wane drops his casual shrug and meets her gaze squarely, noticing for the first time the scar running smoothly down one cheek (a shame, he thinks), then looks back out into the ocean. He did belong on shores; just, perhaps, not these ones.
A pregnant pause fills the space between them. Wane is still looking out across the ocean as though he’ll find the answer to Eszka’s question out there on the horizon, tangled in between the sea water reflections and where the mountains meet; his brows furrow, and the lines of his face pull taut because he realizes he won’t. He could tell her what he is really here for, but the story is more complex than he is willing to vocalize, and regardless, it wouldn’t have mattered to her.
“You, maybe,” he answers playfully instead, with one brow quirked and an impish smile on his lips. He likes beautiful things, certainly, but in the middle of winter when the fruit is scarce you eat what you can find, don’t you? He doesn’t realize what Nerine’s true claim is - if he did, he might have a second laugh at the irony in this moment.
“And the ocean. I’ve missed it.”
This part is true; the sea was as much a part of him as flesh or bone or marrow.
The water is still licking at his ankles when the waves roll in and out, but suddenly it isn’t enough. He charges forwards, until his knees, then thighs, then shoulders are wet, too. The cold cuts like a knife, but there’s something more exhilarating about plunging in because of it.
“Care to join me?”
@Agnieszka