"Oh aye, most of the constellations have names, if not all of 'em. I figure diff'rent folks have diff'rent names for 'em, too. In Fratava, that one's jus' th'tortoise. It's an easy one to find on th'Suvan, so it's a good one for navigatin' by." He settled against the mast and squinted across the darkness at the smudge of the parivel, a few lanterns twinkling from her deck. The rest of the ocean reflected the stars in it's choppy surface, though Leth's face was surely soon to rise and light the night sky in his pale, cool glow. He kept his gaze on the water while she spoke, watching for trouble, though his moonlit features drew together into a smirk when Nira'lia spoke of Zeltiva. The sailor sighed; the port city seemed to be the hub of the slowly turning wheel of his existence, or at least a frequent stop along the way. "I washed ashore in Zeltiva... a long time ago." Ornamented head tilted in the Konti's direction and he was forced to huff some sea foam hair from his aquiline face, changing the subject away from himself and his ancient history, though he wanted to at least mention they had the port city in common, "An', aye, I've been to Mura a handful o'times." He remembered at least one of his trips there had been unwilling and unplanned. "S'lovely there, if you're into blonde women an' magic." A slow grin creased it's way unbidden into his features. He enjoyed the idea of the island immensely, though he kept his fantasies to himself. Lovely women who aged slowly and felt the same connection to the sea as he did—what wasn't there to enjoy about that, really? Well, other than their visions and their vision water … "The White Isle's a beautiful, quiet place, but there's too much thinkin' for me. Too many folks there can see farther than I can, an' I ain't always comfortable with that." He rolled his statuesque shoulders and looked away again, laughing quietly, "But I don't ever mind visitin'. It ain't so bad to get a bit 'f attention." He chose not to elaborate the possible implications, deciding to leave the Konti to draw her own conclusions. "Did'ja escape? Or did'ja get set free?" The moonlit sailor was genuinely curious, but didn't want to pry too deeply. Pash'nar had spent too much time at sea and not enough time in the cities that seemed to require slavery to exist. He couldn't comprehend that kind of confinement, feeling stifled enough by the confinement he perceived himself to be bound to after his fall. He could relate to feeling trapped, but perhaps not in the same way as Nira'lia had lived. He was his own captive, and while he refused to see it, it was his choice to remain in chains. |