Seaside Moors Thirty point three hours

She closes her eyes against the wind and Deimos finds himself doing the same. It's a cold and biting wind, one he is not used to. He hasn't spent much time on the coast and the way the wind picks up and scours down the beach like a predator alarms him. He hunches his back and offers a slender smile. It's not much, but it's something.

"I don't live here, so you're not intruding to me." He answers with a shrug. He's surprised that was her first assumption. Maybe like him, she's not familiar with the area. "I don't think anyone does." He then realizes maybe she means her presence is intruding, but it's too late for him to take back what's already said. "I'm Deimos." He offers, hoping she might not find his misconception of what she meant awkward.