(SE) what are the odds

- NATE -

I can't see much of the future
Unless we find out what's to blame, what a shame

At first, Nate just hums, nods, in the kind of distant way he'd learned at school, interested but in the dark. And in the same vein, he turns to stare at the tree as she reaches out, as it jumps at her touch. "Do you think it's dangerous?" Not that the answer seems to really concern him, his own hand reaching out after hers to stroke at needles, squeezing a few of them between his fingers to release a sharper piney smell.

Definitely a plant. That's somehow reassuring, even if it doesn't exactly help with anything. "I don't think it was here last time I passed through this part of town." At least, not this big, not this active. A snort leaves him at the complaint, it was as if she'd taken the words out of his mouth. "It's still worth looking into, even if it is magic. Everything is." It was a crutch of an explanation, as far as he was concerned, but it was one he was guilty of leaning on when it was easiest.

Nate is far too experienced to let surprise colour his features, but his eyes flick over Isla's face once, twice. He doesn't know who she is, regardless of the edge of familiarity that she teeters on. "Hello." He returns, leaning back just a touch. "Have we met?"

And we won't be together much longer
Unless we realize that we are the same