silence is often a welcome friend for the revenant. another rest before the next expedition to the shadow isles, plagued with ruination & spectral so different than him. for they were not of the ocean, & forced they were to live eternal guided by nothing. dinner had passed, & yet he did not retain any appetite. ( for when you are dead, the small things which means you are living [ ... ] disappear. ) even with the presence of appetizing meats & other well-prepared sides. pocketed away to a balcony on the second floor, the creaking of wood & the tender wind announced the arrival of the other. at first, his response was nothing ⸺ nothing but the mere acceptance of his presence. hands placed firmly on the railing, he watches the waning crowd as the night began its everlasting reign.
there had been much that had plagued his clearer thoughts. his purpose, his identity ⸺ & the grueling thought that yes, he was worthy. how he wishes to go back to routine. & it was [ ... ] difficult to chose one as expression was not his strong suit. he settled with a quieted grunt, turning to face the swordsman with a knitted brow. as soon as his eyes settled on the other's, they were quick to sweep to the ground. maybe a swim would've been better than sulking on the balcony after all. " nothin'. " a small exhale followed. " nothin' too interestin'. "
