shelley_winters | Opinions

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The morning in Shorelle is peaceful and cool.

Zera wanders around the house without hurrying, watching the sea, and the play of the wind in the long grass.

As the girl rounds the corner, she can hear the quiet sounds of movement. She looks up. Joar is training, focused intently on moving gracefully and precisely through the forms. He doesn't see her yet, concentrating. He has evidently been practising for some time, as his hair is slightly damp and his shirt has been discarded.

Rather awkward, she stops, wondering whether to go back inside. But it is almost time for breakfast, she might as well wait for him.

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Niane Tesmani is considered by most in the village of Shorelle to be a nuisance, a conniving, clever girl who often says things impulsively, and is selfish and manipulative.

One thing that everyone in the village will agree on is that Niane is not very brave.

In the face of Zera's quiet anger, Niane folds in on herself, sinking down against the wall of the garden. A slight sniffle as she speaks softly.

"M'sorry..."

Zera crosses her arms, trying not to make the gesture a defensive one. She doesn't see what the girl has to cry about.

That had hurt.

"Perhaps just thinking before speaking might be a good thing to try. Okay?"

Rising rather shakily to her feet, Niane gave Zera a rather wretched glance. Her face crinkled from how upset she was. A hiccup swallowing the first of her sentence.

"...Said I was sorry..."

Holding her arms about her body, Niane fled from Zera, sandals flopping loudly on the otherwise quiet morning.

Zera almost feels a pang of guilt, but what use is sorry if it's not meant enough to forestall what she had said in the first place. Is that really how people see her?

She turns abruptly away from where Niane had fled before she can ask herself if that's how Joar sees her.

Finishing his morning exercise, Joar Addam, oblivious to the minor argument of the women, slowly walks around the corner. Sweat hung on his brow and dampened his dark hair, black in the morning light. His shirt hung open and loose about his body, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his bare chest. His sword was sheathed and held in his hand. The dew clung to his bare feet.

Blinking slightly as he walked around the corner, he stopped. He nodded his head to Zera.

"Good morning, Zera."

Gulping, and hoping the look on her face is nothing out of the ordinary, Zera turns around.

"Morning."

Studying her for a moment, something seemed... off. Tilting his head, he spoke in his usual deep, dry voice.

"Is something the matter, Zera?"

It is not the kind of worry that can easily be put into words. Especially not to him.

"Oh, just..." she waves a hand. "It's fine."

The look on her face contradicts her a little.

Furrowing his brow as he leaned in slightly, Joar still held his head at that odd angle. A note of concern in his voice.

"Pardon my bluntness, but... I am not particularly inclined to believe you."

A pause as he put a hand on her shoulder.

"If you have a problem, I would like you to feel you can talk to me about it."

She can't help the slight smile as she reaches up hesitantly to rest her hand on top of his. He doesn't think that. And nobody else matters.

"Just some gossip. Made me angry. I'm better now."

A sympathetic look as Joar smiled at her, and laid a gentle hand across her cheek.

"Now, Zera, a small village is what it is. You know where the opinions that matter lie. The veracity of those is easily seen."

She smiles back, with a little difficulty at first.

"Yes, I know."

Knitting his brows slightly as he considered the two of them. She obviously had been hurt by whatever was said, and it often helped to embrace her. It was the way of things. However... It was also not particularly sanitary. These thoughts came out as he spoke.

"I probably ought to embrace you, but..."

His dark eyes glance down at his torso through hair still damp with sweat.

Zera laughs silently.

"I don't mind."

She steps forward close to him, reaching up to wrap her arms around him.

Blinking in surprise as she wrapped her arms around him, He glanced down at her for a moment before muttering softly.

"I do apologize for my... damp condition."

With a slight sigh, he wrapped his arms about her shoulders loosely. Glancing downward, damp strings of hair obscuring his vision for a bit. He was to comfort her. That was what he was to do. Softly, a slight song he murmured to her as he leaned his head down. Song expressed what he could not with words alone.

And thus thy memory is to me
Like some enchanted far-off isle
In some tumultuous sea-
Some ocean throbbing far and free
With storms--but where meanwhile
Serenest skies continually
Just o'er that one bright island smile

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