Got a spark in your heart so strike it
His features pucker to one side with a lofty eye roll. "Ha ha," he drawls with all the sass of someone in the wrong tired of hearing about it. Because he hasn't just gotten it from her, and he sported the bruises from when she had. Hardly letting it dour anything though, assuming it's just a ribbing, he keeps closing the distance between them until he can settle easily at her side.
He glances back the way she does too, but offers a hefty shrug in response. "I don't really know how to sail, ended up fighting the wind a bunch." Which is usually the opposite problem he has, but he's never tried to use it to fill a sail in a specific manner, while also fighting a current and swells of waves, while also trying to remember rigging methods and knots. "Trying to learn, but I might have ventured out solo a bit too soon." There's a faint tinge to his cheeks, tone a bit sheepish with the acknowledgement he's entirely done this to himself.
"Uh, yeah, sure. This I actually know how to do." Scrubbing is a great menial task for a low-ranking soldier, and it's something he has helped Flora do with the Sugartide. He grabs up a rag from her pile and dips it into the bucket, wringing it out before crouching down to scrub beside her. "Sooooo, you always come out here to clean your ship?" he wonders, glancing about at the roiling waters that'd nearly cooked him and back at the unsteady, volcanic island. "Like, does the heat here help, or something?"
He glances back the way she does too, but offers a hefty shrug in response. "I don't really know how to sail, ended up fighting the wind a bunch." Which is usually the opposite problem he has, but he's never tried to use it to fill a sail in a specific manner, while also fighting a current and swells of waves, while also trying to remember rigging methods and knots. "Trying to learn, but I might have ventured out solo a bit too soon." There's a faint tinge to his cheeks, tone a bit sheepish with the acknowledgement he's entirely done this to himself.
"Uh, yeah, sure. This I actually know how to do." Scrubbing is a great menial task for a low-ranking soldier, and it's something he has helped Flora do with the Sugartide. He grabs up a rag from her pile and dips it into the bucket, wringing it out before crouching down to scrub beside her. "Sooooo, you always come out here to clean your ship?" he wonders, glancing about at the roiling waters that'd nearly cooked him and back at the unsteady, volcanic island. "Like, does the heat here help, or something?"
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
