Wheeling Gull Isle danseuses de delphes

There was a brightening gleam in her eye and a happy lift to her voice as the Tauhou Tahani started to expound a little on her native tongue and whence it came, cues that in turn strengthened Driftwood's smile and the gentle wagging of his tail. Yeah, he was safe from any secretly growing wrath, here, he figured—there was just a touch of relief in his mien as well for having guessed it right. Good.

Except— Driftwood peered closer, with quietly blooming concern. There was a hint of sorrow there, as well...? Or maybe more than a hint, on some level. Oh crap; now what had he blundered into? His growing worries over Tahani's state of mind were sidelined for a moment however by her asking about his past dwellings and all, which made him squirm a little, not just because it was an uncomfortable question to admit the truth to but also because it was such an obvious trap to be walking into in this conversation, in hindsight. Of course she'd ask that next.

Oh, er, well... Driftwood fumbled audibly for a moment, somewhat taken aback and scrambling to put his thoughts together and recover. Only so many different tracks this train of thought could travel on at once, okay? Nnnno, no I'm not from here, he began, first answering the question more literally, followed by a pause of hesitation as he debated internally just how socially obligated he was to follow this up with, y'know, some actual information. A small sigh then before, reluctantly and with a distinct flavor of embarassment that was all too familiar to him: I, uh, don't actually entirely remember where I came from, before. I washed up on Undersea's shores with my name and not much else—I know I came from somewhere else but not where, before that, I mean... Drift wanted to bang his head against a rock. Right, like that wasn't the most inane and blindingly obvious thing to say. Now this girl was definitely going to think he was an inept moron and probably not worth any more talking to, and without even the excuse of being unfamiliar with the language to boot. What brought you here? he asked, abruptly eager to change the subject, before he remembered that this might be a touchy area for her too, oops. He added hastily: I mean, if you wanna talk about it, that is. You don't have to. Not to me, anyway. I'm not important enough to demand that sort of thing, he added with a wry grin and a fresh cock of the tail, a bit of an attempt at levity.