#lobeiro

"I have to admit, I am a little jealous," Kurt confesses sheepishly. "I still don't quite feel like I have my sea legs yet. You would think the ride to Fódlan would have been enough practice, but I still find myself stumbling from time to time. Silly, isn't it?"

His expression seems to suggest he thinks so, too.

"My name is Kurt. There is still much I can't do alone, but I think this trip will be a good place to start."

“I don’t think it’s silly at all!”

It’s an easy, lilting objection, spoken through a smile that aspires to mark it harmless. She’s seen more than a few queasy faces in the time since their departure! Lifting a hand to cup one side of her mouth, she leans in closer, voice dropping to soft-spoken note, eyes darting hither and thither and — dare she say it? Yon.

“Actually,” Maria whispers, but her lips curl at their corners and give away the game: this secret is not half so tremendous as she plays at it being. “I fell over earlier, too! I turned right as the boat rocked the same way, and — bompf! I fell over just like that!”

Pulling away again, the little cleric giggles through her grin. Where Kurt seems to doubt himself, she faces him with surety.

“It was fun,” she adds with a laugh. “I wound up finding one of my teammates! And have you looked up at the ceiling yet? There’s such pretty patterns in the wood!” Stepping closer, she points up at a particularly languid whorl. “See how it stretches? Hee hee… it’s pretty cool, right?”

There’s something about him that makes her want to curtsy, though, and so she does, flourish and all, eyes a-sparkle when her gaze darts back up to meet his.

“My name is Maria! It’s really nice to meet you, Kurt! There’s a lot of things I can’t do alone yet, either—“ Then she springs back up, crimson bouncing about her shoulders. “—but that gives us a chance to grow together with everyone, doesn’t it? Oh! But I’m not trying to discourage you, okay?” Brows tip upward slightly, tinged with sheepishness but no less warm for it.

Kurt offers the man a mug and with it, a rose from his bouquet. As it grows further into the night, weariness begins to show on people's faces as the adrenaline of dancing and socializing wears off and their bodies remember just how late it is. With the lights dimmed low, it's hard to tell just how late it has gotten, but the yawn that keeps threatening to free itself from his throat should tell him well enough.

"Ever since we've gotten back from Jugdral, any time I spar with someone wielding a sword, I can't help but remember those men with those swords that would make you fall asleep. When I think about that, I can't help but find myself more awake than before."

It's been long enough now that he can joke about it, but there's the pain behind his eyes of someone that had fallen asleep on the battlefield far too many times for one battle. The ideal number of times to fall asleep mid-battle is zero, and yet...

"I have it on good authority that they are correct about this," Matthew answers with a chuckle, easily exchanging flowers and gratefully taking warm mug in hand. It’s not something he has access to all the time (kind of expensive for his purse still, at this juncture), but… this particular night owl would be lying if he said he didn't keep any of the stuff on emergency standby.

For a night like tonight though, and where the rivers of coffee flow freely…? Don't mind if I do…!

He pauses mid-sip, like the bitter taste is suddenly more than he's bargained for. But no - the drink itself is fine. It's the memory that plays with his appetite for one long, pensive moment.

"Yeah, that's…"

Honestly?

Kind of a nifty weapon to have at hand, if you ask him - based strictly on what he'd heard about it, not having witnessed it in action for himself. But the thought of succumbing to it… "That'd be harrowing, for sure, ha ha. But it's Fenrir's bite that better keeps me up at night, personally."

He grimaces.

The words are out of Kurt's mouth before he has the time to consider them. It had been a genuine compliment, but it must sound odd coming from a 'man' she has never spoken to before. Even if they are all stuck on the same boat until they reach land, it's never nice to be accosted by a stranger.

He hurries to explain, "My fiancée is fond of them, too. She usually wears golden beads in her hair, but she has wings of her own, so she would probably find a feather design like that is charming."

A wing accessory and real wings together might be overkill, but Rose would probably say the same thing if she were here. Cute and pretty things have always been more of her thing than Kurt's thing. Even if she called him cute or handsome, delicate things like that suited her much better.

"My name is Kurt. I..." Realization dawns on his face and his visible eye widens. "Oh! We are in the same class, aren't we?"

“Hahaha!"

"Oh, thank you...!” Nanna replied at once, warmth smoothing over any trace of surprise. If the words had caught her unprepared, she did not show it; compliments, when offered without edge or expectation, were things she accepted as they were meant. Her fingers rose briefly, brushing the feather at her temple as though acknowledging it anew. “I made it myself. Shall I make one for you, too, one day?"

His hair was bunched in patches, much like fur, and there was a silk sheen to them that had her mind's eye working its wonders. She could imagine an arc of ribbons or a feathered tassel would look quite refined on this young man.

At the mention of his fiancée, her smile softened into something more thoughtful. “Golden beads sound beautiful,” she said sincerely. “And wings of her own--?"

Nanna did not come upon men so often candid of their love and the kind of angel's cradle they carried. Wasn't that romantic...?

A quiet note of admiration entered her voice. “I imagine she carries herself with a great deal of grace. Some ornaments are meant to echo what is already there.”

It is only then that Nanna realized that Kurt's sleek, furlike mounds were actually ears. And that the chance that his fiance actually had wings came closer to reality than she thought. Still, she had missed the opportunity to bring it up organically, and thought perhaps she could come around again at a later time to ask. (...After all! Why wouldn't she? Someone with a heart so tender is rather curious, yes?)

She inclined her head slightly, a gesture that split the difference between courtesy and familiarity. “It’s nice to meet you properly, Kurt. And yes—you’re quite right. We are in the same class.” A hint of amusement touched her eyes.

It's nice, he thinks, to watch people come up and approach her without hesitation even so.

"We're on the same expedition team, aren't we?" He offers in greeting to the girl. "My name is Kurt. I have heard a little bit about our destination from the others, but it will be my first time actually stepping foot there."

Maybe it is sympathy for a fellow person with features deemed unconventional in this land that leads him to approach her. Or maybe something about her appearance inspires a certain fondness in his heart.

"If you don't mind me saying so, your hair reminds me of one of my dearly treasured knights." His expression softens into a smile as Alberta's calm expression comes to mind. "She wears hers much shorter than yours, but I can always pick her out in a crowd thanks to the light blue streaks in her hair. It looks nice."

And again, it isn't literal shadows he has to watch out for. It's more in the metaphorical sense. The shadow cast by the light of a lantern illuminating a pole lacks the heart and soul necessary to make a wish. Without that will, it is little more than a trick of the light.

But the young prince is still human and humans are known to get spooked by shadows sometimes.

"Ah!" What moves is not a shadow at all, but a person that had been standing in his blind spot, revealed by the slightest turn of his head. There are certain disadvantages to the way he wears his hair, chief among them the blind spot created by his bangs. "Oh, my apologies. I didn't see you there. You're one of the Black Eagles' professors, aren't you? My name is Kurt."

...It was an honest mistake, but his fur is surely standing on end now, isn't it?

The sound of the student startling makes Yunaka startle in turn. She jumps back with a squeak, quickly holding her hands up in front of her in surrender. "Sorry, sorry! Didn't mean to startle you!"

She's never been able to sleep very long. A lifetime of paranoia and thinking up every worst case scenario makes it hard for the mind to settle and rest. So, when she is awake between those hours of rest, it feels more productive to do something than just spend the time staring at the ceiling.

She would've thought all the others would've been sleeping at least, but finding one of the newer students out and about was quite a surprise. He wasn't one of the Eagles, but she remembers hearing the quiet rumbles about the newest patch of students to join the school.

She wonders where he got the dog ears from. She hadn't found an accessory shop like they had on the Somniel yet.

By the time she speaks again, her heart has sunk back into the spot in her chest where it's supposed to be. She does her best to smile brightly for the student. "No, no, it's my bad! I've been told I walk too quietly before, so you wouldn't be the first I've accidentally spooked like that."

Maybe she should get a bell.