The pair was making their way up the shore steadily. Their pace is casual. Or at least Étoille feels so. Now that he has a goal and company, he feels self assured as he once had been. Eventually they will reach.. whatever destination they were going to reach. And the journey is pleasant enough. 

So far he has largely stayed quiet, not being the sort to offer communication unprompted. Yet the beast is curious about his fairer traveling companion. Her formalities are an oddity as the name of her old home. Étoille has made little effort to press her for details since their original meeting, but he cannot help but watch her curiously, trying to make sense of the puzzle pieces he's presented for himself.

He would not know what to do if she were displeased with the silence, lacking the social tools to keep conversation afloat. Small talk seems like too much trouble. And he is not the sort of move into deeper chats without some prompting. Not that he minds others who are talkative - Liana comes to mind, even now - but reciprocation is beyond his limits.

As are other things. She catches him staring and he blushes faintly, caught out. But more than that, her question throws him off guard. The man's nostrils flare in surprise. "Er," he says, sheepishly, "I apologise." It  is not so much the question itself - fair enough, he would think - but the way the femme has asked it of him, her eyes so velvet and doe-like. Étoille is not a complete stranger to flirtation - there'd been his brief feelings for Liana and his exchange with the woman in the quarry - but the force of it turned on him still weakened him, just slightly. "Je suis curieux," he murmurs, somewhat shyly, and clears his throat. "We have been traveling for some time now," Étoille says. His question is implied, though he gives Mirabelle a sideways look, clearly expecting an answer.

He accepts what she says, though it leaves him slightly more - lost, perhaps. Well, but: he wouldn't mind another staring at him. This was the luxury of the self-assured. 

The pair share a beat. Étoille lets her weave ahead slightly, dark gaze glued to her form as it moves, tracking her movements. It lingers even as she addresses his unaswered question, though his expression is not lecherous and betrays no deeper emotion than mild curiosity. "Oui, yes," he answers, because that is easy enough. "There is something..." Here the man hesitates. "In my mother's tongue, we call it 'je ne sais quoi'," he says. His translation is not entirely accurate - he means I don't know quite literally, without the implication of attraction, but it holds true enough. "You said you were from far away," he finally settles on, the closest he's come to prompting her for any explanations to date. It still offers her a chance to rebuff, but secretly he hopes she will open up, just a little.

Étoille pauses mid-step, expression growing alarmed by her sudden reaction. He does not immediately connect his question to her fear, and so goes on alert, eyes sweeping the area for some threat - a bear, perhaps - despite the complete lack of scent. But then the femme speaks and the beast puts it together. His brow knits. 

What on Earth could possible cause the man to run her off. He supposes she could have murdered children. But even then, perhaps there was a reason for it. And looking at her, she did not seem the murderous type. "I do," he says, but it doesn't seem to matter because she speaks right over him.

Her story is brief but belies much more. "I see," the man says. What else is there to possibly say? "That sounds rough." Even he can recognize that his reaction is weak, but it is the best he can muster. Still, he manages to add: "I would never run you off, Mirabelle," dark eyes serious as they study her downturned face.

This does explain her.. odd reticence, though he'd chalked it up to personality. The dirt on her when they'd met. Her anxiety. Perhaps even why she'd wanted a traveling companion. Not that he minds; it suits him to travel with her, regardless of her intentions. Étoille feels the stirrings of protectiveness in him. However long they traveled together, he will ensure her safety. There is not much that could threaten him, at least. He straightens up and dips his head, a formal gesture to sign off his previous statement.

He does not relax even when she lets out a breath. The man feels no guilt for triggering this response from her; it had been a harmless question, easily dodged. Nonetheless, her fear is unsettling to witness. 

"Not at all," he replies, falling back into step with her easily. At her question, Étoille hums. "I am not sure," he says, gaze drawn forward. "Are you?"

It seems theyre in similar places. Étoille hums again, lets the silence between them stretch longer. He is thinking.  After a few moments, he finally says, "I would like so." The only pack he knows by name is the Caldera - and the nomad's pack that Ty is founding, though he does not recall the name of it. And of course he is headed towards neither. But that is alright; he will end up where he is meant to end up. "I have lived as a loner for a long while," Étoille tells her. Perhaps it is only fair he divulges some, too. "Very briefly I was with a pack named Gnarled Oaks, but it was small and quickly fragmented. I do not mind wandering, but I would like to..." the man trails off, thoughtful. "I would like to establish myself somewhere, if nothing else." Étoille wonders if given her history Mirabelle is interested in finding a new pack. He would not be surprised if she isn't. Well. There was time to think on that - and their eventual separation - later.

It seems odd to fall back into silence that had been so easy before. "...Thank you for sharing, er, your story with me," the beast says, somewhat awkwardly. He gives the smaller woman a thoughtful look. He supposes they are closer now, though he did not feel a paradigm shift. Perhaps.. perhaps friendship was a simpler thing after all.