The list of things Zahir disliked was a very, very long one, but somewhere near the top was being left behind. It took him a good minute to catch up in the wake of Naseem’s jogging. Ae caught the impression of the conversation happening up ahead, but he was more interested in the non-verbal particulars of the scene unfolding before him: the way these people moved, spoke, conducted themselves, the small details like the tattoo of a scar beneath one’s eye, marrying these aspects against the stories he’d overhead in their time in Torchline so far, and then again against those grander stories that had made it to other parts of the world Zahir had haunted.
What a coincidence. Just the people they’d come looking for, but did not for a second expect to encounter in person.
Flanking Naseem’s shoulder, a step or two behind, Zahir came to a standstill and watched his travelling companion shoot her shot, entirely casual, using the full-bodied drawl she oft turned on sailors and the like. Zahir could whisper low in her ear who ae suspected these strangers were, but ae felt ae was owed some petty revenge. Not to mention Naseem did her best work outside of the formality of monarchy— that was Zahir’s remit. Zahir, for his part, bowed a polite nod to the one whom he suspected was Queen Flora. To the other, he gave a different kind of nod, holding eye contact, watching; like a cat encountering another, considering. Ae got the impression that this second stranger might well be the illustrious Captain Jack ae had heard about. Someone whose positive regard mattered to them and their new home even more so than its queen.
What a coincidence. Just the people they’d come looking for, but did not for a second expect to encounter in person.
Flanking Naseem’s shoulder, a step or two behind, Zahir came to a standstill and watched his travelling companion shoot her shot, entirely casual, using the full-bodied drawl she oft turned on sailors and the like. Zahir could whisper low in her ear who ae suspected these strangers were, but ae felt ae was owed some petty revenge. Not to mention Naseem did her best work outside of the formality of monarchy— that was Zahir’s remit. Zahir, for his part, bowed a polite nod to the one whom he suspected was Queen Flora. To the other, he gave a different kind of nod, holding eye contact, watching; like a cat encountering another, considering. Ae got the impression that this second stranger might well be the illustrious Captain Jack ae had heard about. Someone whose positive regard mattered to them and their new home even more so than its queen.
