No Promises

One dark eye tilts back to watch as Roscorro affixes the bead. A pretty thing; it matches the blue-black shine of Seiji's coat, the blue seas surrounding his home. Roscorro cannot know this, but the fact fills Seiji nonetheless with a quiet joy. A worthy gift; he has nothing to repay it with. He suspects Roscorro wouldn't want anything, anyway, so he merely nods at the gentle touch to his cheek. This is goodbye, but perhaps not the same sort of goodbye Seiji gave to the master's island. To Luta. To that so-familiar shore. He can't be sure. He can only be grateful. He is free now to move away, and he does. He goes without suspecting any internal struggle on Roscorro's part. Happily oblivious to the king's private thoughts, though they wouldn't change the final outcome of this encounter even if Seiji did know. The outcome decided before this meeting began: That Seiji goes, his dark shape wandering along the shore until it grows small, smaller, smaller. Until it disappears. His dark shape venturing to other places, far-off places, in search of something he cannot tell any of them about. If he goes without animosity, that is a gift.

img by Tildae @ flickr

ooc// Yes! :) @Roscorro is a delight <3