The wave of sand that stood poised and ready was more than just sand. It mirrored his life, in a sense. The way was like each new situation he found himself in. Each new situation could make her break him. The sand was like his own life. It stood still on the beach, smooth and monotone. And yet, in this wave, the sand had the power to put out fires and stop a flood. Was he the wave of sand or was he the fire? Did he have the power to raise up and to destroy? Or was he at the mercy of others?
The thoughts run far too deep and Rhone has to tell himself this is only about her. This wave is not a parallel to his own life, but a ways to perhaps make the mare in front of him more at ease. Rhone never wanted to make anyone uncomfortable and he unknowingly had by building this fire. He is so abundantly sorry, but he feels out of place in sharing that with her. Instead, he waits for her answer.
And then she asks him to put it out, apologizing for the request in the same action. "You do not need to apologize." He does not need an explanation nor does she need to apologize. Instantly, the wave of sand crashes over the fire, smothering it into a pilar of smoke. He does not tell her that he was going to use the fire to cook his dinner, a stew made of some of the greatest herbs and plants the forest has to offer. Instead, he will settle on a protein bar, bought from a vender on his journey here.
He pulls out the stick of food, opening it and breaking it in half. He uses his telekinesis to float it towards her, offering her the morsel of food as an invitation to stay and dine with him, even if it is pitch black. He supposed the darkness was a good thing. At least here he could see all the stars with clarity. Yes, even the night could be beautiful.
He listens as she begins her explanation of her thoughts and he finds he’s more confused now than he was before. He did not think that he was speaking for others, but only himself. he had no lover, no interests, no children. He supposed everyone else was free to love to do as they pleased. He was only a simple man with simple desires. It appeared as though she was wanting to say something, but unsure of what to say. "I could never speak for others. I have no power over anyone but myself." Had he misunderstood her? Had he missed the clues? Now he feels awkward. There is an awkward, uncomfortable silence that settles between them. The longer it lingers, the more uncomfortable he gets. "I am truly sorry if I have said anything to offend you. It was never my intention." He was doing all the wrong things today: saying the wrong words, building the wrong fire, and sitting here hoping that he had misunderstood here. What had happened? Had he missed something entirely?
@Luvena
