Faolan nods uncertainly at the question, not quite sure what he is asking but suspecting he is asking after the blood. It's something he is still coming to terms with himself, where a part of him feels as though the color of his blood is terribly wrong, and another part of him feels as though this is something that was always meant to be.
"It is," he agrees. "A great many things about this day have been, I have found."
What with the whole squid thing and then coming to himself in the middle of the ocean and then the beastly pirates. It's a miracle he's standing here on shore at all.
Faolan moves to crouch at his side, scanning the shoreline as he does.
It was an understatement, wasn't it. Though as uncanny as it all is, it's also impossible to ignore the feeling that it's all fated.
He's faced with those warring instincts again, as the man crouches down beside him. He almost wants to scoot closer, oddly moved by just this simple show of concern. But that's too trusting, and so he remains as he is.
"Only a little." It's partly a front, an instinctive assertion so as not to appear weak. His legs are fairly battered, which is impossible to fully hide with no clothing to help. But he's certain, even with only the haziest idea of memory in his mind, that he's had worse. He'll be able to walk. It'll just...hurt.
Faolan is coming back to himself perhaps a bit faster than some of the others. He does not realize this in the moment, and once he does he will no doubt take time to consider what it should mean. For now he simply accepts that his head is a little fuzzy and there are pieces of things that he feels he should know, but does not, but if he forces himself to focus he will give himself a headache so he leaves it be for now.
What he focuses on instead is the boy in front of him and the fact that he doesn't look all that bad. The light-colored blood is only gently seeping from his scrapes and bruises, and he'll likely be fine with a bit of cleaning up. The rocks and sand on the shore probably aren't helping much.
There may be. That will raise new questions, though. Will they be welcomed, or chased out? Or worse? The word enslaved comes to mind, with a rush of anger that briefly warms the air around him. But he can't quite figure out why. He feels dazed. Every time he thinks about himself things grow...fuzzy.
What's very distinct, though, is the fact they're surrounded by bare rock and sand. Right now, it's a matter of finding resources or wasting away on the beach. He certainly isn't going to do the latter. So he follows the man's lead, looking down the beach for any hint of something else.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
askeladd - august tdm
Faolan nods uncertainly at the question, not quite sure what he is asking but suspecting he is asking after the blood. It's something he is still coming to terms with himself, where a part of him feels as though the color of his blood is terribly wrong, and another part of him feels as though this is something that was always meant to be.
"It is," he agrees. "A great many things about this day have been, I have found."
What with the whole squid thing and then coming to himself in the middle of the ocean and then the beastly pirates. It's a miracle he's standing here on shore at all.
Faolan moves to crouch at his side, scanning the shoreline as he does.
"Were you injured?"
aw yes
He's faced with those warring instincts again, as the man crouches down beside him. He almost wants to scoot closer, oddly moved by just this simple show of concern. But that's too trusting, and so he remains as he is.
"Only a little." It's partly a front, an instinctive assertion so as not to appear weak. His legs are fairly battered, which is impossible to fully hide with no clothing to help. But he's certain, even with only the haziest idea of memory in his mind, that he's had worse. He'll be able to walk. It'll just...hurt.
no subject
What he focuses on instead is the boy in front of him and the fact that he doesn't look all that bad. The light-colored blood is only gently seeping from his scrapes and bruises, and he'll likely be fine with a bit of cleaning up. The rocks and sand on the shore probably aren't helping much.
Faolan casts an eye down the beach.
"There may be a settlement nearby."
no subject
What's very distinct, though, is the fact they're surrounded by bare rock and sand. Right now, it's a matter of finding resources or wasting away on the beach. He certainly isn't going to do the latter. So he follows the man's lead, looking down the beach for any hint of something else.
"There are fewer rocks that way."