18th of Summer, 516 AV
Phobius let his legs dangle over the edge of the dock, carelessly swinging them back and forth as he gazed out at the sea. He had never realized how much water there was, and it seemed to go on forever, taking people to faraway places that couldn't be reached on foot or the back of a horse. Sometimes, when he came to this place, he got the chance to see someone set off in a boat. The bigger, prettier boats didn't leave as often, so he ended up missing them, but that was alright; he liked to sit and watch the smaller ones, and daydream about what it would be like to have his own boat. Most people bought them to fish with—he knew because he'd seen a lot of them filled with fishing rods and big ol' nets—but he would only want to sit in his and let the waves carry him wherever they wanted.
Smiling a bit, the boy picked a small loaf of bread up off of his lap. A short, plump woman with rosy-red cheeks had been selling bread at the Bizarre, so he'd bought it as a treat for himself, along with a little package of what the Meat Man—whose real name he had never learned—had called "roast beef." Then he'd decided to take his makeshift lunch to the Port, where he could sit on the docks and eat it with Nini, who'd been tagging along with him all morning. She didn't like to be left alone at the Inn, and insisted on going with him whenever he went out. Not that he ever complained about it; he loved the little bird's company.
When he reached for the roast beef, his feathered friend let out a squawk, starting to do a little impatient dance on his shoulder. "I know, I know," he said with a chuckle. "You gotta be a patient birdie."
She squawked, again, as if to tell him that she'd been patient long enough. Once he got the package open, he took a small piece of the beef and held it out to her, watching as she snatched it out of his fingers and wondering, for the hundredth time, what it was like not being able to chew your food. Then he took some more of the beef and made a sandwich with the bread. He'd let Nini have a bite if she wanted one, but all she ever ate was meat—and bugs, on occasion—so he doubted it.
"This is speech in Nari."
This is thought.
Phobius let his legs dangle over the edge of the dock, carelessly swinging them back and forth as he gazed out at the sea. He had never realized how much water there was, and it seemed to go on forever, taking people to faraway places that couldn't be reached on foot or the back of a horse. Sometimes, when he came to this place, he got the chance to see someone set off in a boat. The bigger, prettier boats didn't leave as often, so he ended up missing them, but that was alright; he liked to sit and watch the smaller ones, and daydream about what it would be like to have his own boat. Most people bought them to fish with—he knew because he'd seen a lot of them filled with fishing rods and big ol' nets—but he would only want to sit in his and let the waves carry him wherever they wanted.
Smiling a bit, the boy picked a small loaf of bread up off of his lap. A short, plump woman with rosy-red cheeks had been selling bread at the Bizarre, so he'd bought it as a treat for himself, along with a little package of what the Meat Man—whose real name he had never learned—had called "roast beef." Then he'd decided to take his makeshift lunch to the Port, where he could sit on the docks and eat it with Nini, who'd been tagging along with him all morning. She didn't like to be left alone at the Inn, and insisted on going with him whenever he went out. Not that he ever complained about it; he loved the little bird's company.
When he reached for the roast beef, his feathered friend let out a squawk, starting to do a little impatient dance on his shoulder. "I know, I know," he said with a chuckle. "You gotta be a patient birdie."
She squawked, again, as if to tell him that she'd been patient long enough. Once he got the package open, he took a small piece of the beef and held it out to her, watching as she snatched it out of his fingers and wondering, for the hundredth time, what it was like not being able to chew your food. Then he took some more of the beef and made a sandwich with the bread. He'd let Nini have a bite if she wanted one, but all she ever ate was meat—and bugs, on occasion—so he doubted it.
"This is speech in Nari."
This is thought.
