Oystercatcher Tide Pools rock lobster

something about his reaction amuses her, winning a mischevious smile. it's easier than she thought to be a person again, now that she has abandoned any former sense of self. oblivious to his contemplations, and all for the better, fool boy, she murmurs, "no need for apologies," her sleepy eyes crinkled at the corners. 

lazily she glides closer, leaning over to peer into the shallow depths of the pool. she's never tasted whatever hardshelled creatures the man was hunting; she's curious. "what are they called?" hamartia asks, tilting her head briefly toward him, not minding her proximity to him (should he have remained static while she drew closer) in the slightest.