Stavanger Bay ah, just burn it up

Content enough to drift, a vague intention to search good enough motivation to warm him, he was still relieved to blink and realize he was not quite alone. Somehow, finding the dark Archer in his periphery had become almost normal, and he never found he minded her knowing where he went as both of them came and went themselves--even with him meant to be misplaced to here on the beach. He moved on closer to her without an ounce of hesitation.

He trotted lightly, and gently tossed his head in greeting. Damp and windswept, he was feeling more airy than he had in some time. A pointed deflection of the last of his hurts in some great and horrible way, but all washed out by the seaside and its breeze, he could still wear it as an improvement of where he had been once: crumbling at the foothills of Moonspear's end. Thanks to this, he could search the ice of her look with a bit more confidence before he stepped half into a pivot, joining her side parallel. It's pretty nice here, he noted with a soft chuff, and a distant look towards the horizon. After everything hung after, unsaid.

It was nice, and life was easy here for this short stint. He wondered what Vallkyrie saw in it, if anything.