Silvertip Mountain my heart is filled with the pain of disco

at her mention of the coast and the subsequent trail of her gaze toward the sea, aditya smiled warmly--and genuinely, this time--and nodded. "i grew up by the sea," he murmured, and inhaled deeply, as if he could smell the salt and seaweed from here. as if on cue, a seabird flew overhead, squawking down at them on its way to the ocean.

heartened at finding a fellow shore-dweller, aditya gave a bow of his head at her introduction, deciding to give his true identity. he went back and forth with using his own name or that of his uncle's, but he felt as if he could trust this woman. "aditya," he responded, wagging his tail once.

he noticed she gave a last name, something he had gone most of his life without. true, he had inherited the morningside name with his marriage to dawn--but he preferred the anonymity of just a first name, nothing tying him to a particular family or place. when the occasion merited it, he would give his full name--but for now, he was aditya. sirf aditya.

"are you from the sea originally, or have you taken to it?" adi asked, one ear canting in intrigued inquiry. he loved hearing the stories of those who fell in love with the coast; it did his heart good to know that the bosom of the sea, like a mother to him, had welcomed so many others into embrace.