This post's authors have general content warnings that might apply to the current post.
View Flat HTML
View Metadata
Search Post
Arlen Kallem has recently come into possession of a boat. Well, actually he's recently come into possession of a few things, given his mother just died. But most relevantly, he has a boat. And a friend, with whom he can boat. These facts are relevant.
Harin has no objections to boating; he's still in shock, as far as Arlen can tell, which is pretty unreasonable, considering it's been like a week since his dad died, and the guy was a complete asshole. But it does make him conveniently portable and boat-able. Arlen is the skipper and Harin is the something. They are the perfect team.
Even the most perfect team can make dumb mistakes, though. Like drifting farther out to sea than intended. Or not noticing a hurricane brewing. Or being swept across the ocean until they smash onto the far shore. That sort of thing.
Ari, sprawled on the beach, has a pillow; the pillow is a large chunk of rock protruding from the sand. It's such a lovely pillow. Very comfortable. He's going to sleep now. Harin has similar opinions on the subject.
"Probably, yes. Beds that we are not going to sleep in, because we might die."
A boy who looks remarkably like Nior sticks his head out of an upper-floor window and peers down at them.
The boy in the window yells down a question in some language that sounds plausibly related to Welchin but not related enough to be understandable.
He stops clinging to Harin for a moment to instead hug Nior. "Thanks for not leaving us to die!"
"He does this," says Harin. "D'you not like hugs? He can be trained away if you like."
"I was just. Surprised," says Nior. "It's fine." He glances up at his twin and adds, "Don't lean so far out of the window, Mir."
Arlen enters the house to better communicate with Miraen. New friends! He has three whole friends now, that's crazy!
"Introduce me to your shipwrecked Welchins, Nior."
"Arlen Kallem and Harin Dochenza," he says, indicating each. "And this, as you may have gathered, is my brother Miraen."
"Oh, neat! Can I touch them? Ma never let me touch my broken legs, she just called in old Serlast."
