Seaside Moors Storms cause our flowers to bloom

Either bemused or not wanting to get saltwater in his eyes, Miranda's face is pulled into an affable grin as he follows the pirate-wife's lead, letting the tide bring him back to shallower water. Silt clouds the water where he stands.

Coast-born and coast-bred, much like Knaven. He imagines a lifetime of waking up to the corrugations of beach sand and drifting asleep next to the capricious push-pull of the ocean. If this was the life he'd chosen to lead, he might as well learn to love it. 

So he smiles when Rosalyn mentions love, dimly surprised (Could she read my mind?) and delighted by her bit of wordplay. He'd never get enough of that. 

I'll be honest, I'm a bit of a romantic, he starts off, his eyes glinting, I thought that this place was just pretty as hell. Y'know, wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life just lookin at it. 

But after learning more about you, and Erzulie and all ... I respect it. I wanna protect it.

He could've never said this about Brooks Range. It really did take a lot of effort to love a place that was hellbent on running you out of it. 

You can throw up now. Cheesiest goddamn thing I've ever said.