Vadim shares his history and Eik nods- it makes sense then. Raised by the desert, and loyal to it. Don't we all have that attachment to the place we were born and raised? If not from true affection then surely misplaced nostalgia. Why else would Eik cherish his homeland-- a place just as harsh and unforgiving as Solterra, if not moreso.
"I understand."" He thinks about why he chose this kingdom to live in-- he almost forgets what his reasoning was. The reasons were never very important, and time has only further worn them down. He is simply a boat without an anchor, and this is where the tide has pushed him.
His gaze moves to the mountains of the night court, and the lightness of Vadim's words draws a soft snort of amusement from the scarred grey. "Ah, the scary night court." His words are solemn but bone dry. He cracks a smile, and his moment of humor passes. "Have you been there?" His interest is piqued- he is forever curious about new places, and his encounter with the night court prisoner had only intrigued him more. "I woud like to see it for my self." There is a lively glimmer in his eyes and for a moment he seems a much younger man. Mischevious, even.
Vadim. He commits the name to memory. "Well met Vadim." When he thinks about Solterra, about Novus, and how it is a land of immigrants, he does not see what is funny about them, and a single ear flickers in hesitation. It all seems a bit sad, really.
(but you think about the words that make you up, and how each word can bloom into ten others, and you think of those ten blooming into a hundred and before you know it your thoughts are spiraling and you are a thousand sunflowers- or something more serious. Roses, perhaps. Perhaps you are roses)
(and the feeling is nice and you don't laugh (it aint that funny) but you smile, half elsewhere.)
Beyond the sadness, maybe it is a little funny. He sees it now, on the other side of the roses. They are like some odd circus. He wonders what it is that draws them here. And before he can get lost in his thoughts again, lost thinking about the drive and ambitions of all the lost (lost lost lost; do you have a thesaurus) souls here, he speaks.
"Funny how our paths converge." Not just Eik and Vadim, but the rest of the pilgrims and wanderers. "Sometimes, I have the sense that there is meaning to it all, some divine path we all walk, but it comes and goes..." His gaze drifts across the sand and to the day court, which seems so small and insignificant from here. You might even think it was made of sand. "And then sometimes I think why does it matter anyway? We all turn to dust."
