[wanda doesn't stray too far away from the arcanis, finding that she didn't want to be part of the crowd that blustered towards the shore to witness the display of the sea creatures taking to the sky. she prefers how the ship is emptier, giving her more room to pick a space to stand by and look over at this phenomena. she stands by the main deck, listening to the lunae staff mention how in such an occasion wishes can be made and should be shared. the traditions are not unfamiliar, even if they're not entirely like the ones wanda knows from her world.
wishes aren't usually meant to be shared, are they? if one wants them to come true.
she offers her thanks as she gets a mug of mulled ciderโreminding her plenty of what she can find in solvunnโand she pockets away the bag with spiced nuts for later. for now, the cold is countered by the mug in her hands, as she makes herself scarce, climbing up towards the bow of the ship where less people are gathered. the last thing she would want to do, honestly, is to have others share their wishes with her. it's all a little too personal, in her opinion.
thoughts of that self-exclusion scatter from her mind, though, as she takes note of a familiar back. well, more like she recognizes the emotions and thoughts exuding from the owner of said backโ]
Sam?
[her approach is silent, reaching the tall man who leans against the railing, looking, too, at the beautiful spectacle of whales slowly swimming through and behind the clouds, whistling songs intermittently. they had met once before, in nocwich, and although she had lost track of him since, she considered his company easy and his demeanor welcoming.
โsam /outwear.
wishes aren't usually meant to be shared, are they? if one wants them to come true.
she offers her thanks as she gets a mug of mulled ciderโreminding her plenty of what she can find in solvunnโand she pockets away the bag with spiced nuts for later. for now, the cold is countered by the mug in her hands, as she makes herself scarce, climbing up towards the bow of the ship where less people are gathered. the last thing she would want to do, honestly, is to have others share their wishes with her. it's all a little too personal, in her opinion.
thoughts of that self-exclusion scatter from her mind, though, as she takes note of a familiar back. well, more like she recognizes the emotions and thoughts exuding from the owner of said backโ]
Sam?
[her approach is silent, reaching the tall man who leans against the railing, looking, too, at the beautiful spectacle of whales slowly swimming through and behind the clouds, whistling songs intermittently. they had met once before, in nocwich, and although she had lost track of him since, she considered his company easy and his demeanor welcoming.
she takes note of his lack of mug in hand.]
Skipping the cider?