Greatwater Lake i don't like human nature unless all candied over with art

that this is an imposition does not occur to him until she fixes him with her gaze. sorry, nevermind, he thinks to say, but she beats him to it, her words warming him up even as he feels himself rushing to disagree. "i think it's nice," he starts, and then stops as she compliments his eyes, making him blink owlishly a few times. "oh! um, thank you," okeanos says (no one has ever really complimented him, and certainly not on his physical attributes, and in that tone), flustered, before remembering her previous comment and continuing.

"i think it's nice," he starts again, "being - reminded of our place, i mean. we're small, but we're a small part of something so much bigger, you know?" his tone is mild -- he's not picking a fight, only offering his point of view, and he settles to sit, his tail thumping against the ground pleasantly. he's more interested in this theological debate, but should he return the compliment as well? it seems rude not to, and, well, "your eyes -- they're nice too. very shiny," he offers, squinting a little at how terrible it sounds out loud. well -- well! he's trying.