freya takes his hand in her own and gives it a firm up-and-down, withdrawing quickly after with some measure of thinly veiled discomfort. at his admission, she opts to take charge, leading them away from their partner sign-ups and to the shore. 

they won't have much to do until the eggs start hatching; most other folks mingle and catch up with old friends. she glances at some with envy. 

"freya," she says. "it's nice to meet you. and it's nice of you to do this. i think they've been struggling to get volunteers for some time now." she's no idea he'd been called on as a favor. "but it's pretty magical, watching the little ones crawl down to the water."

to know, from the moment they break open into this damned world, where their place is. 

Nikolaj Volosenkov

☉

like she thinks every time she's near sand - she absolutely loathes the beach. the salt leaves her skin feeling sticky. the sand rubs against her skin in just the wrong way. it's only the smell she cares for, as the brine is reminiscent of the air surrounding her homestead. 

and the sound. the waves tumbling against the shore is like a lullaby. 

she looks sad for a moment, and then mostly wistful. "every year, save the past two. i would come with my parents."

a question almost follows: do you have children? but the region is wounded and haunted by the dead. it's, unfortunately, a weighted question she's learned is better off unasked. 

Nikolaj Volosenkov

☉

he gives her privacy she doesn't need and offers her condolences she doesn't want. her inability to have grieved for ALEXANDER STONE is nothing compared to the utter absence she's felt for her adoptive parents. having Eva Morales in her home, among those memories, is the closest she's come to having to face them. 

this is a close second, she supposes. 

"everyone's lost someone," she says, then more kindly, "but thank you."

her smile, soft as it may be, returns when he pats his lapras lovingly. her hands reach for a ball at her side. in her arms materializes a pink-scaled dratini. it squirms with a hissing chirp, settling only when freya strokes the feathery frills on her head. 

when the eggs start hatching, freya squats down. dratini makes for the crook of her neck, draping over her shoulder, rather than touch the sand. dragon and tamer share the same sentiments about it. 

they're small little things, but nikolaj's lapras and the dragon perched on her shoulder seem to be doing the trick at warding away any gulls. 

"i'd almost forgotten how incredible it is to watch them," she remarks. 

Nikolaj Volosenkov

☉

he's a comforting presence beside her, as odd as it is to admit it. theodore had been a slight man, wiry and scrappy. in some ways, freya almost resembled him. but he was nothing like the gruff mountain man presence exuded by the man beside her. there is a tenderness there, though, that makes her feel at ease. 

dratini squirms a little bit when the lapras is called into action. freya reaches up a hand in an attempt to calm her, but she lashes out in fear and bites down hard on her fingers. 

she doesn't bat an eye. just turns her head and blows gently on the dratini's face, startling it enough to get it to sheepishly loosen its hold. she tucks the bloody knuckle in her mouth and hovers over a small clump of the tirtouga. 

"careful," she says around her hand. "there's one by your foot."

Nikolaj Volosenkov

☉

that dumb little smile is on her face while watching him lift his foot and carefully let the struggling tirtouga pass. her dratini would probably love one as a tasty snack and might be tempted to try, were she not watching it like a hawk. sensing it tense though, she taps it on the nose and reminds it "no."

some folks have waded into the water. others are even further out, either drifting on boogie boards or on the backs of pokemon. but after that....

"well, that's just it," she says with a shrug. "they'll be on their own. any of the ones that don't make it into the water are usually taken in by breeders who raise them in captivity where they'll stand a better chance."

she tucks her hair behind her ear. "what will you do after this?"

Nikolaj Volosenkov

☉

there is some measure of betrayal that sits in her as she smiles and says, "aunt carrie's. best krabby cakes you'll ever have." it's been a little over two years since she'd last had them. a lot of the regular folks who show up here will end up over there in the next thirty; freya's family usually waited a good hour or so to avoid the crowds. 

but she's no one to wait with anymore. 

"c'mon. i'll show you."

Nikolaj Volosenkov

☉